Unleashed
by Schrodinger gen X
Summary: Digging just a little deeper during Occlumency lesson, Severus finds large sections of blocked and repressed memories. Eager to hurt and umiliate the son of his enemy, he breaks down those blocks. Unaware of just what he will unleash...
1. Chapter 1 - Unleashed

**Unleashed**

 **Summary: There is something hidden in Potters head, a black mass of blocked or repressed memories that Severus is determined to see. After all a little extra punishment would be good for the brat, would it not?**

 **Rating: M**

 **Warnings: High levels of violence, somewhat graphic torture scenes, character deaths.**

 **Authors Note: This is my first ever time writing a story okay? So be nice please!**

Severus smirked minutely at the twisted form of Harry Potter. The brat who lived was contorted in pain upon the floor of his classroom and still glaring daggers up at him from his place on the floor, an _unfortunate_ side effect of his constant barrage of Legillimens attacks. Oh he knew that it was wrong, that what he was doing was basically mind rape, that in reality he'd made no real effort to teach the pampered brat how to properly Occlude his mind. Although from what he'd seen of the snivelling brats memories, he wasn't quite as pampered as he thought but Severus still saw it as justified as punishment just for being the spawn of Potter.

In fact he'd quite enjoyed watching the fat man put a belt to the hide of a six year old Potter, although the brat had managed to pull away from that memory so he'd been denied a proper look. Severus sneered down at the panting brat on his floor, and raised his wand once more. Ready and more than eager to dive in again, having spotted a rather large set of patched up holes in Potters memories. The gaps were rather akin to suppressed memories, some from his younger years but growing more and more frequent as the boy aged. He assumed that the worst happened after the age of six since he'd yet to see anything between that age and the start of Hogwarts, although from the looks of those beatings perhaps the fat man hadn't been so generous as to only use a belt. Severus fought back a grin, oh this would be delicious.

"Get up Potter!" He snapped, twitching impatiently as the boy slowly pulled himself to his feet.

Potter managed to stand on trembling legs, sweat pouring down his brow and dripping past his ridiculous glasses. Trembling hands wiped the sweat away and Potter glared fiercely at him, hate and anger burning in Lilly's lovely eyes.

"Please Sir, can we not just stop for the night?"

Severus scoffed, "Of course not you fool. Do you think the Dark Lord will stop when you are tired? Do you think he will give you a reprieve just because you ask nicely? No, he will not. So we will start again."

Potter scowled and gripped his wand tight in his fist, swaying ever so slightly with fatigue. Severus kept his expression moderately blank despite his urge to grin viciously, it was so very rare that he was allowed to give into his baser urges of violence and pain. He had joined the Dark Lord for a reason after all, only really spying so that he would be the victor no matter who won the war. A true Slytherin was loyal only to himself after all. Those on the side of the light were fools to think that he cared a whit for them or the outcome of the war, it was his own hide he worked religiously to save not theirs. The fact that the old fool had foolishly decided to trust him was a truly wonderful thing, he now held to the trust of the leaders of both sides, a side effect of which was the 'teaching' of Potter which came as merely a bonus in his opinion. Any chance to cause the son of his childhood nemesis pain was to be treasured in his eyes.

So it was great glee that he whipped his wand up and said the incantation to the spell, far too fast for the useless brat to respond or even prepare himself.

" **Legillimens!"**

The brats dismayed cry was distant as his focus of the physical dissolved around him and he slipped into the wide open mind in front of him, he slid through the cloud of memories around him like an eel through water. Potters anger, panic and dismay barely registering as he made a beeline for the cluster of darkened and forgotten about memories. He could feel the feeble attempts to push him out, and merely pushed much harder in response, eliciting a pained mental cry in reward for his efforts.

His mental probe touched the blacked out memories and everything stopped, Potter did the nonphysical equivalent of freezing like a deer in headlights. Something that Severus ignored, and he began to push at the barrier around the memories. He poked and prodded at the flimsy thing, first in sharp needle like jabs to test the boundaries, then in harsh mental shoves. Severus strained and pushed and pulled, picked and poked until he found a thin weakness within the barrier. All the while Potter stood by mentally frozen in what he assumed was shock, as Severus prepared to unveil the boys worst memories. He withdrew slightly in triumph as the weak spot gave slightly, gathered his strength and pushed.

There was a moment of strain, the feeling akin to pushing against a brick wall with his face. Then all of a sudden in gave way, and Severus tumbled head first into the first hidden memory.

 _Little Harry was three, all alone and outside in the cold his back smarting from the touch of his uncles belt. The first snow had just started, causing large white flakes to fall from the sky and coat the ground in icy wetness. He stood staring sadly through the window of the Dursleys home, watching in growing anger as Dudley laughed and pointed at him having just locked him outside to freeze._

 _His threadbare clothes did nothing to protect him from the growing chill, and he shivered violently as the cold breeze cut right through him. He twitched slightly as the curtains were snapped shut, blocking off his view of the inside of the house. Harry stared at the flower patterned things for a moment before turning away, he wandered further out into the yard as a harsh glare twisted its way onto his tiny face. It was a strange expression to see on the face of a child so young, but Harry pulled it off with the sort of ease that only came from practise. Tiny hands balled into fist as he walked into the elements, green eyes glittering with unshed tears as feelings of anger, despair and helplessness flooded his tiny form._

 _He looked around for somewhere warm he could sit, and after a moment's thought made a beeline for the bushes at the back of the yard. Hoping that he might find some shelter there under the small amount of foliage, Harry dropped to his knees and crawled in slowly. Careful to not tear his already holey clothes, they were the only pair he owned really. Once settled the boy looked around and froze as he caught sight of what was next to him. There on the ground, taking cover much like he was, was a small family of rabbits that had also been caught out in the cold. The mother was staring at him, eyes wide and ears twitching, body hunched protectively around her young even as they shivered and twitched from cold below her. It was clear that the small animals had been outside, away from their burrow and had been caught out by the sudden turn in the weather. Thus the creatures had been forced to find what meagre shelter they could like he had. Harry locked gazes with the rabbit for a long moment, staring deep into large brown eyes. The silence was broken as she stepped forwards, squeaking and chattering angrily at him for disturbing her spot and Harry frowned._

 _He stared slowly between her and her young, greens eyes watching with envy as this mother did everything she could to keep her little ones warm while also trying to make him leave. Harry made no move and merely stared, eyes wide and unblinking until the rabbit took one more step forwards and bit him._

 _With a yelp he jerked backwards, cradling his hand close to his face as blood ran freely from the fresh bite mark that was left behind by sharp teeth. She chattered again and took another step forwards, and in a flash the shock and hurt on Harrys face turned to rage and he glared fiercely at her. There was a bright flash, a sharp burst of accidental magic and within an instant the mother rabbit and all her young were immobilised and terrified. Only their eyes and terrified squeaking gave signs that they were still alive._

 _Little Harry stared in shock before a dark looked crossed his face and he pushed the large frozen rabbit over onto its side, before reaching past to one of the smaller ones behind it. Frantic squeaking started from all rabbits present and he watched curiously, stroking the soft fur under his fingers idly. Large green eyes watched the helpless animals much like a curious cat would, dark messy hair shifting around the pale face as he tilted his head to one side. Harry watched as they squeaked louder when he moved the baby rabbit around, the first traces of glee appearing on childish features as he realised the power he now held over these animals. Tiny hands wrapped around a soft and vulnerable throat, feeling how the little heart under his hands began to race in primal fear. He simply held the rabbit for a moment, allowing himself to feel the life rush under his palms, before small fingers tightened and he broke the fragile neck with a harsh jerk._

 _Harry giggled at the surprisingly human scream that came from the frozen mother rabbit, green eyes lighting up with glee as he watched her scream and scream over the death of one of her young. A huge grin stole across his face for the first time, showing off white teeth as he reach for another. Taking his time exaggerated movements, he plucked another rabbit from the ground almost gently. Cradling the small thing in hands for a moment, before repeating the process of wrapping his hand around it throat and breaking its neck._

 _He did this again, and again, and again until all ten of the young rabbits were dead on the ground around him. Each one naught but a limp corpse with its head twisted at a sick angle, all the while giggling and laughing to himself. The mother of the rabbits screams had long since died out and it merely watched with glassy eyes as Harry snapped a small branch off of a nearby bush, held the item over the animals chest, and plunged it home. Pinning it to the ground in one swift move, much like one would pin a bug to a card. He watched her twitch and writhe on the ground, the magic holding her clearly having just worm off, until with one last great shudder the mother rabbit died._

 _Darkness fell soon after as little Harry buried the eleven rabbits in a crude hole in the ground, digging the soft earth with the stick he'd used to kill the rabbit. Before he curled up on top of the tiny mass grave and fell asleep, a small sick smile hovering at the edges of his mouth._

Severus barely had a moment to get over his shock before he was pulled into the next memory, barely registering that Potter was no longer fighting him but watching the memories with detached curiosity as well.

 _Harry was still three, outside once more only during the day. His loose threadbare shirt hung off of far too thin shoulders, showing dark bruises, cuts and welts that marred otherwise pale skin._

 _The snow from the week before had melted to a wet slush and he was watching the birds as they flited through the trees, he'd been practising his newfound freakishness ever since the rabbit incident and had discovered that he could do many new and exciting things. The evidence of his practise lay at his feet, this time as a squirrel, pinned cruelly to the ground via another stick through its tail. Several sharp tones floated in a small circle above the pinned creature, and sweat poured from Harry's brow as he focused on the rocks. Every now and then one of the stone would give a little jerk, before flying down to smash into the pinned animal with great force. It cried out and struggled, trying to run away over and over again to no avail. The rock once it had hit its target, would drift softly back up into the air to join its fellows and resume its lazy circling._

 _Before long multiple rocks had begun to shine crimson, dripping blood like rain where they circled above the animals head. The once soft, brown fur was now sleek with blood and the back of the animal bore great resemblance to a heavily pot holed road. Deep craters marred almost every available surface of the squirrels flesh, and in some place the white of bone could just be seen whenever the poor creature moved._

 _Green eyes glowed with power as this happened, razor sharp as they took in every little detail of the torture he was inflicting and the sick smile upon his face would have scared even the hardest of hearts should anyone have been around to see it. He grinned widely, as the frantic movements of the small creature began to slow, pain, fatigue and its injuries beginning to take their toll._

The next memory was just as bad if not worse.

 _Harry Potter was now four, holding a small boning knife, holding down a cat via its neck as he cut the flesh it its stomach to bloody ribbons._

 _Aged five now, he was gleefully suffocating a toy poodle with a length of rope. The small dog was squeaking, eyes bulging and foam gathering at the corners of its mouth._

 _Age six. Fire danced around his fingers as he conjured flame after flame to burn the screaming animal in front of him, the scent of charred flesh and burnt fur heavy in the air around him. There was no identifying what the creature had been originally, and it was very much dead. Nothing could have survived the shock of having both eyes melted out of its head while still alive._

 _Age six again, Harry stood back with a gleeful smile as one of the neighbourhood children crouched on the ground in front of him screaming as he clutched uselessly at his shattered hand. The boy flinched as Harry raised a hand, pointing a single finger at him, babbling apologies and cries for mercy. The boy wept and cried over and over that he was sorry for punching Harry, who merely traced a single finger over the growing bruise on his face before smiling. The next scream that came, was loud enough to shatter glass._

 _Little Harry Potter was seven and screaming furiously as he was dragged out from his cupboard via his hair by the fat man, he was thrown to the floor where he bounced upon contact with cold tiles. The fat man was purple in the face, bellowing about broken plates and Harry's freakishness and how the boy was going to get it. All the while he reached for a heavy looking cane with a malicious glint in his eyes. Green eyes whipped around and glared fiercely at his assailant, a small hand was flung out and the fat one yelled as he was suspended in mid-air. The woman and her fat son came running at the noise, only to be bound in a similar manner. Little Harry grinned as he stared at his bound tormentors before pulling himself shakily to his feet, he walked around them slowly, magic pouring out of him creating an oppressive aura. He watched them twitch and scream threats of punishment and violence, of retribution and pain before they were silenced with a flick of his hand._

 _They struggled then, a futile move that did little more than amuse the boy they so hated. He giggled softly, the beginnings of a sick grin stretching across his face as he watched them. A quick trip to the kitchen had him armed with a rather large knife, the cold metal of the blade gleamed brightly and all others present froze in terror. Wide eyes showing vast amounts of white as they became glued to the blades movements._

 _It was the child Harry went after first, smoothly sliding the knife through fat flesh with the ease born of practise. Blood flowed freely alongside tears and silent begging, Harry refrained from too much damage of course, this was meant to scare, to put them in their place. Killing was something left for later or for promises of punishment, he hummed happily as he cut and cut. Up over arms and along the chubby chest, hacking off any clothing that got in his way before continuing along his chest. The hot coppery scent of blood was heady in the air and Harry smiled serenely at the familiar comfort of it all, pale skin coated in a layer of deep crimson. The elders struggled and shrieked silently, their movements ruining his concentration somewhat._

 _Harry frowned harshly at the interruption, turning away from the sobbing fat child with a dark glare. A flick of his wrist had the blade of the knife glowing with heat, the two adults stilled at the sight like frightened rabbits. One pissed themselves, the woman, but Harry didn't care he merely approached the other and pressed the flat of the blade against the first piece of flesh he could reach. Harrys laugh filled the air along with the crackle and sizzle of cooking flesh, he yanked the blade away with a feral giggle. Cooked and blackened flesh tore with it, eliciting more silent screams. He turned to the other and held out a hand, a small bag of salt sailing through the air to land neatly in his waiting palm. The fat shrank back from the maddened glint in the child's eyes, as the boy approached knife raised he tried to plead with him. Soundless and utterly useless in the face of the merciless monster that he and his family had created._

 _The white shirt was cut away from the bulging stomach, and Harry wrinkled his nose as the now exposed expanse of giggling flesh. But moved in anyway, drawing his knife first horizontally, then vertically in much the same way one would score the skin of a pork roast in preparation of making crackling. The knife was placed reverently on the table next to him, utterly soaked in blood, then Harry turned his attention to the almost forgotten bag of salt. He poured a generous amount into his hands, tossed the bag aside and faced the fat one with a wide grin on his face. Little hands massaged stinging, burning salt into the open wounds with neat efficiency, all the while the child hummed and giggle to himself. Often pausing in his ministrations to stare up at the silently screaming face, or to look around and take in the horror present on the faces of the rest of his family. He didn't stop until all the salt in the bag was gone, and the fat man had finally passed out. Harry stared at his comatose uncle for a long moment, pouting heavily, before picking up his knife with a shrug and turning back to his bound family._

 _What followed lasted for hours, the damage always superficial yet painful. Enough to scare and intimidate, yet not enough to permanently main and kill. Afterwards Harry let them down, watching with dispassionate eyes as they collapsed the ground in a mess of blood and snot and tears. Orders were given then, in a cold hard tone, threats too. Reminders that he could do it all again only worse, that he could have taken limbs and inflicted far more permanent things. There were also warnings against telling others, how they wouldn't believe their stories and even if there was an investigation due to the fact that he also bore similar damage to his body that would look far worse to their side of things._

The memories sped up then, coming faster and faster until Severus was dizzy.

 _Harry Potter watching with glee as his family scuttled around him in fear._

 _Harry Potter stood in his new bedroom, the master bedroom of the house while the others were shifted into the spare rooms and his cousin under the stairs._

 _Harry Potter sneered down at his cringing aunt, a plate of food dumped on the floor next to her as he berated her for failing to cook it to his standards. The standards not at all dissimilar to the ones he was held to not that long ago._

 _Harry Potter sitting an arm chair like a king, a large serpent wrapped around his torso as it whispered wicked things in his ear. All the while he giggled cruelly as his family were cowering in a corner, staring at this new display of his freakishness._

 _Harry Potter watching as his uncle dug a hole in the yard in the middle of the night, the mangled corpse of one of his childhood bullies laid out on a sheet next to him in the dirt. Blood dripped freely down his hands and he sneered and snapped whenever the fat man's work slowed to an unacceptable level, siting the need to not get them caught._

 _Harry Potter was now eleven years old, eyes wide as a grim faced Albus Dumbledore stood over him the Hogwarts letter in the old man's hand forgotten and crushed. The boy bound from head to toe in heavy ropes, spitting out curses in both English and Parseltongue. Anger turning swiftly to fear and pain as his magic was bound, feeling as if a part of himself was being cut off in the process. Then light, bright and white washing over the memory before it started once more, with Harry waking up in the cupboard under the stairs to the demanding yells of his aunt._

Severus ripped himself from the boys mind and threw himself backwards, chest heaving in shock what he'd just witnessed. He stared up in horror at the shadowed figure of the boy in front of him, the fire in the fireplace and the candles around the room having long since burned down to nothing during his time in the boys head.

This, was nothing like what he'd expected, the boy, no that monster was far worse than he'd ever been. Worse than the Dark Lord in the way he'd personally tortured and maimed his relatives, at least Voldemort used little other than the crucio. Preferring not to get his hands dirty, but Potter, Potter had revelled in the blood and the pain he'd caused. Had cared little for the splashes of crimson that had come from his victims, nor had the stench of burning flesh and hair caused him to falter or blink.

There was a high pitched giggle that broke him from his thoughts and had Severus fumbling for his wand, only to watch in horror as it flew from his grasp via a softly whispered spell. Another whisper and flames flared, cold and blue, they gave the room an icy tinge as Potter stepped forwards.

That same sick smile Severus had seen in the boys memories was back, and green eyes shone with malevolence. Both his and Potter wand were out and pointed right at him, as the child gave yet another high pitched giggled. The sound just dripped with the promise of pain and echoed with obvious insanity. The boy ripped his glasses from his face, throwing the useless things to the side, a move which allowed the glow of power and glint of madness in his eyes to become painfully clear for all to see.

"Oh my dearest Severus, this is rather the shock is it not? Why what wonders we've found in my head! Hidden away and all locked up." He chanted in a sing song voice.

Severus cringed back as Potter walked closer, his usual graceless stumble replaced by a smooth serpentine glide. Horror rising like a tide in his gut as he realised that he hadn't just broken the memory block on Potter, but also the bock on his magic as well.

"Oh my dearest Snivellous, I must simply find a way to thank you for unleashing the real me! All these years it's felt like something was missing, something important and now I finally know what it was _and_ the cause. Isn't. That. Just. Great."

Potter smiled then, flashing white teeth that suddenly looked far too large and sharp for his mouth. He leant over Severus and to his horror he found he couldn't move, only able to blink and breath as the unleashed monster in front of him leant closer. He hadn't heard the boy cast a spell, hadn't seen a wand or any other indication. Potter had wandless magic, he had silent wandless magic, oh god, oh merlin…

"Oh wonderful bitter Snape," Potter purred, "You've freed me from my cage. Broke away a-a-a-all the blocks on my memory, my personality and my magic!" He breathed, "All placed there curtesy of the great and magnanimous Albus-Goat-Fucking-Dumbledore! Of course I understand it, logically he couldn't abide by the thought of there being yet another Tom for him to fight. One was bad enough after all. But two? Well, the light would lose for sure!"

Potter giggled again, the sound sent waves of unease and terror sliding down his spine like ice. The boy shifted to sit on top of him, straddling his lap and pressing to point of his own wand harshly against his throat. Potter licked his lips slowly, eyes heavy as he stared down at Severus in much the same way a cat looks at a cornered mouse. The very same look he'd had in his eyes in that very first memory, when looking at the mother rabbit and her young.

"Oh my sweetest Sevvy, I'm not sure if I should curse you or reward you for what you've done to me. On one hand I am free, unshackled, unchained, unleashed to revel in my true potential! But on the other hand none of this would have come about without your senseless hatred of me, your desire to hurt me made you push and prod and poke where you never belonged."

With a sigh and a severe expression, Potter waved a chiding finger at him before he wriggled on top of him and laughed. It was high and cold and cruel and to Severus' horror. He found himself reacting to the warm weight moving and pressing against him lap, heedless of what was happening Potter carried on with his speech. Harry leant forwards to purr his next words directly into Severus' ear, lips brushing against the sensitive lobe with every word.

"Oh my wonderful Severus, Dumbledore the mighty really did make such a grievous error when he assigned you to be the one to teach me how to occlude my mind. Only you would force your way into what looked like repressed memories, any other teacher would have left well enough alone but not you! No, _any_ excuse to cause pain to Harry-Bloody-Potter! Yet even with that in mind I can't bring myself to be completely mad at you. After all, without your… _invaluable_ aid I would still be that pathetic piece shit of Gryffindor shite that I was turned into by the meddling old fool."

Severus clenched his hands under the table as green eyes stared at him, insanity lurking in their depths. He fought the urge to flinch as Potter let out a little 'oh' and swallowed heavily around the bruising press of his own wand. Potter licked his lips again, and Severus was helpless to stop himself from watching the slick muscle as it slid over plump pink flesh. Never before had he found the boy attractive, yet with his memories unlocked and his magic unbound the boy was by far the most alluring thing he'd ever seen. It was horrifying in the face of everything that was happening to him at the this instant, the betrayal of his body almost unbearable.

Potter clicked his fingers, "Ah yes! I know the perfect thing for you my dearest spy! Yes this will be the perfect reward for all you've done for me over the years, payment, in kind for the service you have just rendered me and the treatment I have suffered at your hands. Yes, yes, yes, the perfect gift. I just know you'll love it Mr Snape!"

Severus paled as a green glow built on the end of his wand where it pressed against his throat, he knew exactly how this would end. He closed his eyes against the sight of glowing green eyes and a sharklike smile, bowing his head to his fate. He was going to die, at the hands of a Potter, bound and helpless like the animals the brat had killed over the years. There was no escape, he had no wand and he could _feel_ the magic of his bonds. Severus couldn't break through that even if he tried.

"Yesssss," Potter hissed, "Hold nice and still for me dearest, just like that, good good, now I've never cast this curse before but I _have_ killed, that should make it much easier, right? They say it's a painless death, a proper gift for you I think, you might have treated me like shit but you did also free me. Hm, you may have doomed the wizarding world in the process of course, but minor details my dear, minor details, more importantly I think you should look at me before you die. They say that its better if you have something nice to look at, no?"

There was a wash of magic over his skin, and Severus found his eyes forced open and his chin pushed up. He stared into eyes the colour of death, as the last two words he'd ever hear were spoken.

" **Avada Kedavra!"**

Harry climbed off of Snape's cooling corpse, tucking both wands into his sleeves after conjuring holsters for them. He grinned and stretched, changing his ratty clothes into a fine set of robes with a tailored shirt and pants underneath. His holey sneakers changed in dark leather boots, his hair lengthened and grew, his skin cleared up and his vision fixed itself all curtesy of his unblocked metaphoric gift. Just another thing that Dumbledore had felt the need to lock away from him, right along with the majority of his memories, personality and magic.

He grinned back down at the corpse on the chair, he'd felt the reaction that Snape had had to him sitting in his lap and had found it rather funny. It was oh so obvious that the dark haired man wasn't on the light side that it wasn't funny, and while Harry hadn't been able to resist climbing on top of him to get up close and personal while tormenting his Professor before his death the arousal he'd caused the man had been an entirely unintended side effect. But a very interesting one at that, Harry had been too young to use such charms before Dumbledore had interfered, but after seeing just how much what had happened had disconcerted his teacher.

Harry was now old enough and more than willing to explore such things in greater depths, but later of course. Right now, Harry had far more important things to do than indulge in his favourite hobby.

With a snap of his fingers, Harry extinguished all the flames in the room before skipping over to the door. Humming an off tune, he thought it might be parts of a funeral march but he wasn't one hundred percent sure, he wandered down the corridor with a giddy smile on his face. Merlin it was good to be himself once more! Harry was almost disgusted with the way he'd been acting ever since the old coot put the block in his brain. Befriending poor as dirt and low powered Weasleys? Actually talking to mudbloods and making nice with them? Turning away an obvious ally in the form of the Malfoy scion, and saying no to the offer or _more_ power from lil ole Tom? Dear lord above he'd been wasting time, all those days spent in class where he hadn't paid attention, nights where he could have been studying magic wasted on blood traitors and _chess!_ Oh the horror!

First things first he had to make all this right, he needed to cozy up with a rather sexy looking snakey Dark Lord and finally put himself on the side he was _meant_ to be on in this stupid war. Of course to do so he needed to give the man a gift, repayment for screwing up so many of his plans and pushing back the date of his return.

Harry stopped walking, almost tumbling down a flight of stairs because he'd stopped with one foot still lifted in the air. But what does one get the greatest Dark Lord ever? Flowers? No, no man Dark Lord or not would ever want to be gifted with flowers. Rare and powerful artefacts? A good idea, but he had no way of getting any tonight and Harry didn't want to wait a single day longer than he had too to fix the mess of his life. Hm…

The gift needed to be special, unique even, it needed to be both an apology and a token of his sincerity in joining the dark side of the war. The trouble was, other than his head in a box, Harry couldn't think of anything of equal value- Oh. Oh this would be perfect.

With a dark grin Harry conjured a knife, before stalking forwards at a swift pace his spirits high once more. Oh the Dark Lord was just going to _adore_ his gift!

It was several hours later when Harry stood before the Dark Lord, coated in blood carrying a box and grinning manically that the Voldemort lifted an eyebrow.

It was shortly after that, that for the first time in years that Voldemort grinned as the head of his enemy tumbled out of the box and onto the ground at his feet.

And it was for the first time ever that he laughed freely and loudly as Harry Potter knelt at his feet and swore loyalty after telling him his tale, holding his arm out happily to receive his mark and take a place of honour at his side. A wide manic grin stretched Harry's his cheeks wide while the severed head of one Albus Dumbledore, lay bloody and lifeless at his feet and his arm burned with the brand of ownership placed there by the greatest Dark Lord of all time. He stood when told to, taking his new place at Voldemort's left hand side.

The same place that Harry would always stand, before, during and after Voldemort claimed rulership over the entire wizarding world after he bought them to their knees.

 **End Authors Note: Done! Wow, only took me two hours to write this. The idea just sort of hit and the words flowed like magic,** _ **magic!**_ **Also listening to the Bloodborne soundtrack really seemed to help get me into the mindset for those gory scenes, I guess using music to set the mood really does help after all! ;)**

 **Be aware that I don't have a beta, so there will be mistakes. I have read it over, but I will miss things. I am only human after all.**

 **Anyway, I have other things in the works but this is my first ever story! I'm so proud of me, so please favourite and review if you liked it. I am always open to feedback, and hopefully I will have some more thing's up for you to read some time in the future.**

 **Love and Hugs, S  
xxoo**


	2. Chapter 2 - Unleashed, Tea Party!

**Unleashed – Tea Party!**

 **Summary: Just a little glimpse into Harry's life in Voldemort's mansion, where perhaps giving him free reign over the prisoners wasn't a good idea…**

 **Rating: M**

 **Warnings: Gore, graphic depictions of torture and violence, major character death/s, dark/disturbed/insane Harry, most decidedly an AU.**

 **Authors Notes: So, I felt that I couldn't just leave my little one shot there and had a few more ideas pop up when I woke up this morning. These will be little standalone one shots as well, but they will tie into the first Unleashed. I got some of my ideas for this from one of my favourite subjects when I was in school, history! Yes I was a bit of a history buff and a nerd, still am really, although it was the wars and religions that really interested me the most. So a lot of what I write here is accurate as far as my knowledge goes.**

 **Also so sorry this wasn't out on Monday, as I promised several of you, I got a little held up in my writing over the weekend. Mostly with family stuff, I won't bore you, but it is done and very much dusted now!**

Harry hummed happily to himself as he glided along the dimly lit halls of Voldemort's hideout, cough, manor. His black robes were billowing out behind him in a manner reminiscent of the late Severus Snape, and his white Death Eater mask was tucked uselessly into a pocket of his inner robes. Several low ranked outer circle Death Eaters shied away nervously from his path, and flinched back into the ever present shadows when he grinned toothily at them. He giggled at the sight but didn't slow down to torment them more, merely sweeping past their trembling forms in a grandiose manner.

Most of the lower ranks were rather terrified of him ever since he'd been attacked during his first week on the Dark Side, the man had sought him out while he was alone and sought to 'Show him his place' as it were. Hours later, they'd found Harry sitting on the floor next to the rapidly cooling corpse making balloon animals with the eviscerated bodies intestines. Needless to say, no one knew how he did it and Harry had been left alone to do his thing.

But none of that mattered now! For his wonderful, dearest, snakey Dark Lord had given him a present! Sure it had taken nearly a week of constant hints, subtle and not so subtle, pleading, pestering and one blatant temper tantrum. Harry wasn't sorry for it, even if it did make him look childish. However, the end result of said tantrum was his little request being granted. So he considered the embarrassing behaviour to be worth it, no one aside from the Dark Lord and his snake saw anyway. So now Harry was allowed free reign over the prisoners! Sure not _all_ of them, Voldemort had already had a house elf mark all the important cells so he knew which ones he wasn't allowed to play with. But with over a hundred cells in the lower levels of the manor, Harry was sure that there would be more than enough prisoners down there to cure his never ending boredom. In fact, he might even be doing Voldie a favour by clearing out space! After all, just because the old goat was dead didn't mean that those on the light side had just given up and handed themselves over to the dark. In fact they'd got a new batch of prisoners today, and the fresh ones were always so much more fun to break…

Almost giddy with excitement, Harry skipped down the corridor and over to the rather ominous looking doorway that lead to the basement. The doorway was wide and short, made of thick grey stone that was scratched and stained with age. Along the lower edges were several bloody handprints, clear signs that more than one person had been dragged unwillingly through this very opening. The door itself was made of bloodwood, holding a crimson sheen which gave it its name, and was set with several heavy complex locks and enchantments that made it impossible to pass through unless one was being taken through by a marked Death Eater. A mark that Harry bored quite proudly on his own arm these days, he'd spent hours stroking the mark after he'd got it until Voldemort had told him to stop as it was annoying him.

With a dark grin, he pushed the door open. Using his magic to silence the rusty looking hinges, as it just wouldn't do for any of the prisoners to know that he was coming. If they knew he was there, they could prepare themselves, perhaps even try to hide within their cells or resign themselves to their fate. Harry wanted them startled and scared, he'd been down here several times before with Voldemort and other Death Eaters, and while they liked to make a dramatic entrance he preferred appearing out of the dark like a spectre of death.

It would make any reactions to what he did next so much sweeter when they didn't have time to ready themselves, the whole thing would be more real, honest, much better to savour…

Harry padded downstairs, his feet bare and robes a mere whisper of sound on the stairs behind him. He stopped on the landing below and just breathed. The sharp, coppery tang of blood was the first to hit him, filling his nose and tingling on the back of his tongue deliciously. Next was the salt and acidic tang of sweat and tears, mixed nicely with the sickly sweet scent of putrefying wounds. Fortunately there was no smells like vomit or humans waste, there were spells on the cells which dealt with those things right away as even he didn't like smelling that. No matter how sick or twisted he was in the head there were just some things which weren't good, no matter how broken a person you were.

Opening his eyes, Harry licked his lips slowly and drew himself up to his full height. He peered through the gloom at the long line of barred doors, a mad urge to cackle rose but he pushed it down in favour of continuing his stealthy approach and padded forwards. Cracked stones, cool and hard beneath his feet, shifted as he walked. The few prisoners close to the entrance that were alert enough to notice him, shied away from the doors of their cells. Their eyes wide and fearful, watched his every move as he passed them and closed with a mix of relief ad guilt whenever it was clear they weren't about to be chosen. Harry kept his face blank as he walked, although his eyes betrayed his glee should any look close enough, stopping every now and then to peer into a cage. Not that he would choose any from the front, those cells were reserved for prisoners already worked over and held some of the ones who'd been here for a while. There was no way he would settle for sloppy seconds, no Harry wanted a new one, a fresh one who hadn't had the time to get used to the idea of their captivity so he carried on.

It wasn't until he was about half way down the line of cells that Harry slowed once more, his eyes peeled for his newest plaything and experiment. With great care he peered into each and every cell.

That was one marked as off limits, the next a much older male. Not worth his time, the bastard would probably keel right over before he even had a chance to get started. Her? She was very pretty yes, but already squealing in fear. No good at all, she'd give up in no time. Oh this looks good, a couple, Harry could work both at once or maybe play one off of the other. See how long their 'love' lasted with the promise of freedom should one sell the other out- No, their cell was marked. Dammit. Onto the next cell he guessed…

"Harry!"

Harry startled slightly at the sudden yell in the quiet dungeon and turned to the source of the disturbance, raising his eyebrow in shock at the sight of the whole Weasley family squeezed together in one cell.

"Oh my god it is Harry!-"

"-Harry mate it's so good to see you-"

"-How did you get in here?-"

"-have to get us out mate-"

"-thought you were dead-"

He stared at the crowd of babbling red heads, before glancing at the wall beside their cell. An instant smirk spread across his lips that was just as quickly wiped over to be replaced with a worried and concerned expression. Their cell wasn't marked.

Harry stepped forwards and grabbed the bars of the cage, "Oh my god guys, are you all okay? I'm so sorry you had to wait, but I got here as quickly as I could..."

"It's quite alright Harry dear, we're all fine. Just a little shaken from being captured is all." Molly said in a soothing tone.

It was then that Ron piped up, "Harry where have you been? You just disappeared, and then Snape was found dead and Dumbledore was killed, what the hell happened?"

Time for some serious acting, "It was awful Ron, that slimy bastard Snape let Death Eaters into the castle!" Harry nodded solemnly amidst outraged cries, "He tried to hand me over to Voldemort! But… He got killed, one of the others wanted to take the credit so they just off him! Just like that! I-I heard them talking then, some went off to deal with Professor Dumbledore and the others took me here…"

Harry jumped then, glancing nervously over his shoulder as if he heard a noise.

"But enough of that now, I have to get you all out of here! Before someone comes down to check on you guys."

Arthur shuddered, "But how will you move us without being noticed?"

Harry grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head, "I managed to steal some black robes and a Death Eater mask. It's actually how I've been moving around unnoticed, you'd be surprised how easy it is to sneak around when you're wearing one of these things." There were several happy cries of congratulations for his 'smart' thinking before he shushed them urgently, "Now I don't think I can move all of you at once. Even with the robes and mask it would draw too much attention, so I'm going to have to take you out one or two at a time."

"Makes sense I guess," Muttered Bill, "But who are you going to take first?"

Harry paused for a moment, chewing on his lip as the _old_ Harry would have done when he was thinking before brightening his expression. "I'll take Mr and Mrs Weasley first, that way they can keep a look out for any trouble and apparate out Ron and Ginny once everyone is in the clear. Does that sound good?"

They all nodded collectively and Harry had to fight a wide grin, "Okay then come here."

Molly and Arthur moved closer and after another quick look around, Harry eased the door open and ushered them out into the corridor. He was immediately enveloped in a crushing hug by Mrs Weasley and had to fight the urge to curse her for touching him, instead meekly patting her back as she sobbed into his hair.

"There, there, it's okay. I'll get you all out safely, it'll be fine…"

"Oh Harry dear, thank you so much, thank you, thank you, thank you." She babbled.

Fortunately, she was pulled off him by her husband before Harry's control could snap and ruin his entire plan.

"Now Molly dear, we need to stay strong just a little longer to get out of this. Once everyone is free you can cry as much as you want then, but we have to think of the children first dear, "Soothed Arthur.

To which Molly sniffed heavily and dabbed at her eyes, Harry merely walked past them and made a beeline for the stairs up. He gestured for silence and made a great show a creeping up the stairs, pausing every now and then to listen as he'd once seen during a movie on the television during his youth. Both adult Weasley's copying him hilariously behind him, until he got to the door at the top.

Harry turned to face them, "Now I'm going to put my mask on and head out first, don't move until you hear me give the all clear got it?" He whispered.

Both nodded fervently, and he grinned at them both before pulling his mask out of his inner pocket and slipping it on before creeping out of the door. As soon as it slid shut behind him he yanked his mask to the side of his head and huffed out a short laugh, of this was just too easy…

He hurried to the end of the short hallway and poked his head around the corner, smirking when he startled two lower ranked Death Eaters with his sudden appearance. Harry frowned when both scrambled around for a moment before snapping to attention, clearly Voldemort hadn't had a chance to train these two up properly yet. Neither one should have been _that_ shocked by his sudden appearance, if he'd been an enemy attacker they would've been dead and any prisoners with them long gone by now. Of course training the newbies would have to wait for later, for now both of them could be useful.

"You two!" Harry barked, "Get over here."

They hurried to his side, both glancing nervously at one another.

"I have decided to have a little… fun, with some of the prisoners. Both adult Weasley's are waiting behind that door back there, you will both disillusion yourselves, stand at either side of the door and stun them the moment that door shuts behind them. Do I make myself clear?"

Both paled at the mention of fun before nodding quite vigorously in response to his question, "Yes Sir Inquisitor!" They chanted in sync.

Harry tapped his foot impatiently as they cast the spell upon themselves and moved into position, before once again plastering a fake look of concern upon his face and heading over to the door himself. He pulled out his wand and eased the door open slowly, biting his lip against a smile at the sight of the two, obviously worried, red heads standing there.

"All right, the area is clear and it doesn't look like anyone will be around any time soon. So as long as we stay quiet we should all make it out of here fine."

They both looked at one another, the relief on their faces apparent and stepped forwards at his urging. Creeping nervously past him and out into the open, as soon as they couldn't see his face Harry let the door go and all emotion vanished from his face. It made a horrendous noise, creaking loudly shut and both elder Weasley's jumped in fright at the noise. They whirled on the spot to face the source of the sound just in time to catch the twin stupefy's to the face, which dropped them like stones.

Harry giggled at the loud crack their heads made when coming in contact with the floor and smirk down at the crumpled forms on the floor, with a short wish of his wand they rose from the ground and into the air. Both comatose bodies bobbed in place, swaying sickeningly from side to side, and Harry turned a sharp eye to the two now visible Death Eaters.

"You will stay here and guard this door, I will be back to collect the rest of the blood traitors shortly. Let no one escape or I will spend some time showing you just why I earnt the name _Inquisitor_."

"Yes Sir Inquisitor."

"Oh course Sir Inquisitor."

Harry sneered at them, "Good."

He faced his newest playthings and, whistling merrily, walked off in the general direction of the gardens. He'd just had a _wonderful_ idea of what he wanted to do, not original of course, something he remembered reading about long ago that seemed to fit his current mood perfectly. Oh he did so dearly hope that the house elves still had some of the cherry jam left over from breakfast…

Ron twisted his hands nervously in his dirty shirt, eyes fixed on the closed door of the cell.

All of his family had already been led out by Harry, first his parents, then Bill and Charlie, followed by Ginny and Percy, then most recently the twins. He'd wanted to go with them, but Harry had argued against it, saying that it was much easier to smuggle out one or two people than it would be to take three or more. Less people to draw attention apparently, Ron didn't like it and he didn't like that he was being left until last either. Not that the others had had much sympathy for him, and sure his parents going first to secure their getaway point _was_ rather logical. But he was Harry's best mate! He should have been the first one out that door, not the others, him.

They hadn't been through stuff like this before, he knew what he was doing! Sure he was under age and didn't have a wand, but none of the rest of his family had one either so surely it didn't matter who went first right?

He was broken from his thoughts by the rattle of his cage door, and he snorted at the sight of Harry pulling the heavy bars open.

"Took you bloody long enough didn't it?"

Harry merely frowned and shushed him, "Dammit Ron do you want us to get caught? Come on and be quiet!"

His arm was then seized in a tight grip and pulled, Ron hissed at the pain and tugged futilely on the arm in question. They set off at a break neck pace, sweeping up the stairs and through that horribly loud door, down one hallway then another, barely pausing to glance around corners or through doorways before starting off once more.

"What the hell Harry? Slow down a bit!"

"Shut up Weasley."

Weasley? Harry never called him that, what was going on?

Ron stared at the side profile of Harry, as they moved, unease growing in his gut at the sight of the perfectly blank look in his friends face. Harry never looked like that, where was the concern? The worry? Harry had never been able to hide his emotions in any sort of dangerous situation, he always had the habit of nibbling on his lip or of frowning heavily whenever he was thinking or doing anything. In fact Harry had nearly bitten through his lip in worry several times during their adventures, and had actually had to go to Madam Pomfrey twice with migraines due to tension during the tri-wizard tournament. Sneaking through Death Eater central was definitely stress and worry worthy, so why did Harry look so calm?

It wasn't until they reached a wide open hall, filled to the brim with Death Eaters that his worry turned into dread.

"H-harry? W-what's going on…"

A grunt was all he got in response, and Ron began actively fighting against the hold on his arm as several of the men and women in the room turned to watch as he was dragged by.

"S-s-stop, stop! W-where are you taking me?" Ron's eyes widened, "Oh god you aren't Harry are you?"

"Right you are little blood traitor."

Ron flinched as the hold on his arm tightened and the glamor on the man next to him faded away, revealing a much taller heavy set male in the standard white Death Eater mask. He shrieked and yanked furiously at the hold on him, only to cry out in pain when he was backhanded for his troubles. He went limp as his ears rang, now being properly dragged over to a wide set of double doors, Ron slumped in the hold and held his now aching head in his hands. Tears welled in his eyes as he was cuffed again and cursed at for being difficult, now the room spun slightly as another ache bloomed on the opposite side of his head.

It hurt, he tasted blood, he was scared, he wanted someone, anyone to rescue him. He couldn't focus, or breathe, he knew he was panicking now, but he didn't care. There was a bang as the doors opened and the sudden rush of sun after his time in a dark dungeon cell blinded him, was this it? Was this how he died?

There was an angry growl and he flinched again, keeping his eyes glued to the ground Ron shuddered as a cold voice washed over him.

"What is this? I gave strict orders for him not to be damaged in any way."

The Death Eater beside him shifted slightly and replied in a tight voice, "He was resisting, caught on that I wasn't who I said I was and began to make a fuss. 'Sides it was just a cuff to the head, nothing major, it's not like a stabbed him," The man added petulantly.

"Fool!" The cold voice hissed, "I did not ask for him intact for no reason! Any damage will mess with the results of my experiment, and I do not call two harsh blows to the head which are already bruising minor damage!"

"But-"

" **Crucio!"**

Ron jerked to the side as the man next to him dropped to the floor with a scream of pain, he staggered to the side as the dark robed wizard flopped on the ground in agony. Shuddering as the cries of pain began to climb in pitch, Ron wasn't sure just how long it went on for but when the curse was finally lifted the sudden silence that fell was deafening.

The was an irritated sigh then, and the sound of feet swishing through grass coming towards him. Ron cried out and leapt back away from the source of the noise. Blindly backing away from whoever had just cursed the Death Eater that had bought him here, he wasn't successful however, his head was only just beginning to clear so he only managed two steps before he was tripping over his own feet and falling. Ron yelped as he landed against something hard and wooden, it felt like a tree, but the moan of pain that followed his impact unnerved him. He sucked in a shocked breath only to gag, he must have passed into something as the sudden stench of blood, vomit and tears assaulted his nose. Harsh gasps and pained cries rang out from all around him and he shrieked when a hand grabbed his arm, he jerked viciously away from the blurry thing next to him, tumbling back into the chest of the man following him.

He was jerked around to face his unknown assailant, and a wand pressed to his temple, Ron shied away only to freeze in confusion as the muttered words of a simple healing spell washed over him. Blinking heavily in confusion, Ron sagged in relief as his vision cleared to show the familiar face of Harry.

"Oh thank Merlin it's just you Harry, I was so worried it was some sort of Death Eater. Did you managed to get them out? Are the rest of my family safe from those dark wizard scum?"

Harry smiled at him, lips twisted into a crooked grin before he gently grasped his shoulders and turned him around slowly.

"That I did Ron, the only person to get to your family was me. Just look!"

Ron looked away from warm green eyes, looked up, and screamed.

Harry tapped his lip in thought as he stared between the note book in front of him and the people around him, the enchanted quill scribbling away diligently, taking notes and readings as he directed.

He'd had such fun leading the entire family of red heads out into the manor grounds, the two adult Weasley's had been the easiest to subdue. They both blindly trusted him and had fallen quickly to the wands of the Death Eaters, then he'd merely levitated them outside and set up the beginning stages of his experiment. Next had been Bill and Charlie, he'd had trouble with them, both boys were healthy, strong and taller than him and Harry's two helpers had disappeared after he'd readied the elder ones for experimentation. But in the end Harry's wandless magic had proved more than a match for the two eldest male children, both had relaxed after they'd gotten his wand from him and that had proved to be a fatal mistake.

Percy and Ginerva had been a joke, he hadn't even cast any spells, the only Weasley girl had tripped and taken her brother with her. Knocking them both out in the process, Harry had merely shrugged and levitated their stupid asses outside to join the rest of their family. The twins had been tricky, but a simple dark curse, one that created incredibly tough and sticky webs had caught them out and they'd looked like they'd been attacked by an Acromantula when Harry had finally caught them and taken them outside. Although Harry had to give them points where it was due, they both caught onto him far faster than the rest of their miserable family had. Thus they'd been chosen for a far different experiment than their kin, one Harry had been quite eager to try out ever since he'd first heard about it. In fact, they'd even been saved for last.

For Ronald, Harry had simply sent a glamoured Death Eater to take him in his place. For Harry had little to no interest in actually going through the effort of collecting the boy himself, in fact of all Weasley's Harry liked Ronald the least. While Molly was overbearing and annoying, and Ginerva was clingy and delusional, Ronald was an greedy, annoying, selfish, self-centred prick.

While Harry no longer cared about things such a friends and other such nonsense, he had been made to care for a short while, and Ronald had made the mistake of abandoning him and stabbing him in the back at the slightest provocation far too often for him to allow the brat to get away with it. The youngest Weasley was childish and petty, not to mention now that the proverbial wool had been pulled from his eyes, Harry was more than certain that the prick had sold many of those horrible stories about him to the prophet along with being ordered by the headmaster to keep an eye on him. Most likely for monetary gain, as that was the only thing to motivate the slovenly slob, as more than a few times Ron had disappeared after Harry had started to show some 'darker' behaviours and then not half an hour later Harry would be called up to the headmasters office for a chat and some tea. A chat which he would leave with a fuzzy head and any urges to hurt the nosy fools around him gone like they'd never been there in the first place, such an odd _coincidence_.

So that was why he'd sent someone else to get the boy, and also why he'd healed the brat enough to let him see just what he'd done to his dearest family.

The dearest family which he was taking notes on now actually.

Seven on the nine Weasley's were high in the air above him, spread out and placed carefully atop a collection of large wooden spikes. Harry watched each one carefully, his eyes darted from one contorted form to the other eagerly taking note of pained expressions and of the shining trails of blood. Those beautiful lines of crimson were mostly new even if not every Weasley had one. Molly and Ginerva were sat upon their spikes, screeching in magically silenced agony as their bodies were ever so slowly forced open and down upon the unforgiving wood by their own weight and gravity. Both were as naked as the day they came into the world, bare feet already scratched and bloody from their attempts at finding a foot hold upon the rough wood. He'd bound their hands behind them, twisted up cruelly as if they were praying behind their back so that they couldn't attempt to remove themselves from the spike and ruin the results of his test.

They had the least blood on them, as so far, the huge stakes had yet to pierce their body far enough to actually cause internal damage. Of course it was only a matter of time.

Next up, clustered together so that each stage of his experiment was notably separate, were the three oldest males. Also stripped bare, they were place upon their stakes to be impaled via their stomachs. Arthur facing down with his hands and feet bound lower down on the stake in front of him, forcing his body to curve over the sharp tip of the stake. Already it had sunk a good four to five inches into his body, and blood welled with every heaving breath he took before running down the wood to soak into the ropes that bound him there. Bill was on his back, body bent and bound backwards with the tip of the stake off centre as to avoid hitting his spine. He'd passed out early on, and his head hung limp, eyes half open and glassy from pain and shock. Last, but not least of all was Charlie. The red headed dragon handler was on his side, arms and legs free, he clutched frantically at whatever parts of the stake he could and held himself the stillest of the three. He'd also sunk the furthest due to the fact he'd struggled much more than the others earlier on.

Harry stood slowly and moved towards him, easily transfiguring a patch of grass into a small step ladder so that he could get a closer look at Charlie. The top of the stake had gone almost completely through the man's body, pushing its way mercilessly past internal organs to press hard against the skin on the other side of his torso. He reached for the stretch of flesh, entranced by the way it bulged out and stretched around the foreign object, shaded a beautiful white from the pressure. With reverent hands he traced the shape of the spike through thick flesh, feeling for himself the tension there while ignoring the way his subject wriggled in an attempt to get away from his curious touches.

The last two Weasley's on spikes, were Percy and Ron, impaled via their shoulders Harry found himself the most curious about them. He'd made sure to avoid any major damage when placing them upon the wooden stakes, and they had indeed suffered the least damage of their fellows despite the fact that they were the only ones who'd been forcefully impaled instead of being left to sink slowly down the stake due to their body weight. How long would they last? What would kill them in the end? Would it be dehydration or hunger, the elements or blood loss, perhaps it would be none of that and the infections of their wounds would be the thing to push them over the edge?

Harry didn't know, but he wanted to, had wanted to know ever since they'd been taught about Vlad the Impaler long ago when he was in primary school. The longest person to live while impaled had lasted a week, very impressive for a Muggle. But Harry now knew that Wizards were much hardier than plain old muggles, a witch or wizard could suffer through blood loss, hunger, infection and thirst that would have long since killed any muggle, man, woman or child.

Which is why Harry had taken the whole family when the chance had arisen, after all, what better way to find out everything he wanted to know in one go! Much more efficient than conducting a whole range of tests on the group of them one by one. They weren't important, not to the war or to Voldemort, so he had free reign over what to do with them and he'd jumped at the chance to try something he had wanted to do since the first time he'd read about it in school and become aware that what he did wasn't considered normal or sane by any stretch of the imagination.

But there were so many things to take into account! Age, magical power, gender, mental prowess even the location of the site of impaling could have an effect upon his experiments. And they were experiments, Harry had always considered them as such, always wondering just how the human body worked and how much pain it could take. His little explorations helped him as well, allowing him to master wandless magic at an incredibly young age and hone the skill until it was razor sharp. He could do things most wizards only dreamed of doing, all without a wand. Levitation multiple object, setting things on fire, freezing objects, controlling peoples actions and minds, even erasing memories of what he'd done. Although Harry had only managed such a thing once when he was younger, and the event had wiped him out for a good three days after the fact leaving him weak and disorientated. After that one time, he decided to simply avoid people as much as possible and evade detection rather than risk trying such a feat again.

In fact, while he was indeed doing his best impression of an ancient Romanian ruler because of genuine curiosity, he was also testing the limits of his newly unlocked powers once more. The results were… promising to say the least. Harry had wandlessly cast an individual silencing spell on each impaled Weasley and was now doing his best to maintain control over each spell, the strain was at a happy minimum and Harry was almost glad that his magic had been locked away. Nearly five years of struggling to cast magic past a heavy block had strengthened his core, it felt almost as if he had been going through life with a heavy weight around his neck which had just been lifted. Leaving him feeling light and fast, as if he could do anything he decided to put his mind to with ease.

A soft groan drew him from his thoughts and Harry turned to look at the last two Weasley's, Fred and George were spread out on the ground.

As yes his last two experiments for the day, neither were silenced but they were pinned to the ground via his magic and held mostly immobile. He could have held them perfectly still of course, but their useless struggles would be half the fun of what he did next, and Harry had never been one to deny himself pleasure. Although… Harry conjured two blindfolds and slipped them over Fred and George's face's, blocking their view of each other and their family before they awoke. They would hear and smell just fine, but Harry himself knew from experience that they would feel everything he did to them much more intensely with their eyesight cut off. With one major sense cut off, their body would compensate for the loss, heightening their other sense's to make up for the sudden lack.

Finally prepared as much as he would be, Harry transfigured a chair from a rock and sat back to wait for them to make up.

He didn't have to wait long.

The first twin moved, twitching where he lay on the ground before he began to move. Small, weak and barely there jerks as his conscious mind began to awaken fully. Not moment later the second twin also began to move, Harry found it rather interesting that they woke at almost the exact same time and they did almost the exact same thing too.

A short while later the first spoke fear evident in his voice, "Urgh, I… What the hell? W-what's going on?"

The second one moved not a moment later, "Fred is that you?"

"George!" The relief in his voice was clearly evident, "Oh thank god you're okay…"

"George I can't move… I-I think I've been tied up."

There was a heavy gulping noise, as George tensed up at his brothers admission, "Me too Freddy, me too. I can't move at all, not even my head."

After a long moment of silence Fred finally spoke up once more, "George I'm scared." He said in a small voice.

Harry watched with interest as while one twin shrank into himself, the other actually puffed up as if steeling himself to take a hit. The way they seemed to feed off of one another was rather fascinating, did this happen like this with all twins? Or was it just the magical ones the fed of one another like this? Harry could see quite clearly now how one twin moved and the other followed, even bound and blind folded they seemed to strain towards their counterpart like two magnets being held apart despite their pull. George like his lips slowly and strained a hand towards the sound his brothers voice, a move Harry followed with great interest, and just managed to brush the tip of one finger against Fred's outstretched hand. Fred himself instantly sagged with relief at the very brief contact with his twin and continued to relax as George spoke.

"I know Fred, but don't worry. I am going to do everything I can to get us out of this, so stay strong okay? Everything is going to be just fine, I _swear it_."

The conviction in his voice was truly astounding, and it was such a pity that Harry was going to have to burst their little bubble and ruin such a charming moment. _Truly_ such a _pity…_

"Oh I don't think that either of you are going to be going anywhere in a hurry _any_ time soon," He purred silkily.

Both twins tensed at the sound of his voice and grit their teeth, glaring blindly through their blindfolds.

"Is that you Potter? You traitorous little prick," George spat hatefully. "Just you wait till I get my hands on you!"

Harry chuckled darkly, "Such threats! Why I find myself almost scared…"

"H-harry? W-why are you doing this? We're your friends, you cared about us!" Fred exclaimed. "What could possibly have happened to turn you into this? Why would you turn to Voldemort and the Dark?"

"Turn me into this? Why my dearest Weasley twins, whatever made you think that I was _turned_ into what I am now? This is the real me, the Harry you knew was nothing more than a fake. An illusion created to pacify those on the light side."

"What do you mean," Fred whispered fearfully, "By the real you?"

It was only because that both looked genuinely curious that Harry answered.

"Hm, muggles have a saying one that my uncle seemed to live by and was a very avid fan of. 'Spare the rod, spoil the child' A rather barbaric thought, but he stuck to it and I was by no stretch of the imagination in any way spoiled." Both brothers paled as he spoke and Harry carried on with a grim smile, "The first time my uncle broke something was when I was three, he punched me in the side so hard he shattered a rib. Of course shattering the rib of a toddler isn't exactly a difficult feat to achieve, but I think the point of the matter was that he actually hit me in the first place. The pain of that single broken bone was… Indescribable…"

He ran a hand over the area and shuddered at the memory, eye falling half closed as the ghosts of long passed pains ran along his side.

"It felt like fire and ice, all the same time, spreading out along my side like a poison under my skin. It burnt and froze and _ached_ like nothing I had ever felt before, in fact no other pain in my life has struck me as strongly that single broken rib has. It was like I had lived my life in silence up until that point and then the first sound I heard was a scream, my scream, and I drowned in the agony." He leant closer to the two bound boys who were now still, listening to him with rapt concentration. "But along with that pain was fear, fear and helplessness, never had a felt more a slave to the people that owned me, never had a felt like I was trapped in my own body before. It was… profound. A ridiculous thing for a three year old to feel, but pain, hatred and fear will do that to a person."

He sat back and his gaze hardened, thin hands clenching on the armrests of his chair until his knuckles turned white.

"Of course this is the part where magic made my life both a blessing and a curse, for you see I was strong magically, very strong and so my magic did what it does best and began to use itself to heal me to the best of its abilities. Nearly over night my rib healed, and I was more than fine enough to get up and walk around the next morning, something that my dear _uncle_ was less than happy about. It was on that day that he decided that if I was going to use my freakishness to get out of my well-deserved punishments, then he didn't have to hold back anymore, and he didn't. Thus I learnt to hate, and it was a lesson I learnt so very well… But it was what happened a while later that it the real point of this happy little story that I'm telling you both."

Harry clasped his hands together, "A few weeks later I was locked outside, it was snowing and cold and my family merely shut the curtains in my face so they wouldn't have to look at me." He hissed, "I went looking for shelter from the cold and decided to use the bushes at the back of the yard. I crawled under them and it was there I saw them, a little family of rabbits also caught out in the cold. A mother and maybe ten little babies, she was crouched over them glaring at me for daring to steal her place and I was jealous. A stupid rabbit was more than willing to go toe to toe with something thirty times her size for her young, and the people I lived with who were supposed to love me were more likely to spit on me than try and keep me safe from harm." Exhaling slowly, Harry continued talking. "She bit me, was already angry and it didn't even hurt, but the moment I saw blood I just snapped and my magic reacted. It froze them all and I picked up a baby rabbit, the mother went berserk, shrieking and squeaking furiously at me. The sound annoyed me so a took that tiny baby rabbit by the neck and killed it, snapped its fragile neck like a dry twig. The scream the mother rabbit made… was _glorious_. It was the greatest thing I had ever heard in my life. The rush of power, the knowledge that I literally held another beings life in my hands was heady. I felt in control for the first time in my life, and I vowed on the spot to never let that sensation go every again."

Both twins were green by this point in time, but George finally worked the nerve to talk, "What happened after that?"

Harry snorted, "I learnt to control my magic, harnessed it by experimenting on the animals in the neighbourhood until I was sure I could control it enough to pay back my relatives for all the pain and hurt they caused me." Then he sighed, "Of course then Dumbledore had to ruin everything, he came personally with my Hogwarts letter and was horrified by just what I'd done to my family. I honestly don't know why he cared, they're just muggles after all. But he didn't approve nonetheless, and so he bound my magic, locked away my memories and forced me to believe that I was once a more a little down trodden orphan with no knowledge of magic who lived his life locked in a cupboard under a set of stairs trying not to get beaten by his uncle."

"That's… That's awful…" Fred whispered, "Y-you're a _monster!_ "

Harry snarled at their bound forms, he tells them that he was all but raped by his family as a child, then was brainwashed by a dirty old man and all they focus on is a few cases of well-deserved punishment and some magical experimentation? Filthy blood traitor scum!

"Oh so I kill a few animals and torture some dirty muggles after they spent the majority of my formative years doing the same to me, only to have the life I made for myself destroyed after basically being mind raped by an old man and turned into someone I'm not via magic and _I'm the bad person!_ " He hissed.

Fred and George flinched back from the rage in his voice, both gasping for air slightly as his magic whipped around him in anger. It pressed down in them, pushing them into the dirt and he couldn't help but feel that it was putting them back into their place.

"How typical of the light side, it's perfectly fine to ignore blatant signs of abuse which are obviously caused by my family. But Merlin forbid I fight back against my muggle oppressors using magic, _that_ just makes me a monster. No better that he be culled or turned into a puppet for a war," He growled, "Well I guess it's a good thing I went to Voldemort on bended knee and offered myself to him and his side. At least they will not see me as a monster, I am me, I am what your precious headmaster and my family made me to be!"

"No! No, we're sorry, we didn't mean it like that! Please!" They chanted.

Harry scoffed, "Don't lie to me, you meant what you said! In fact I find it funny that I almost contemplated going easy on you, not that it would have happened of course." He rose from his chair and gathered his magic, pulling out the tools he collected earlier. "You'd both impressed me by almost escaping when I got you out of the cell, the rest of your family fell like a stack of cards. It was nearly enough to inspire some respect, not to mention I liked you more the rest of your family. However that feeling is well and truly dead, and I see now that I was wrong to even consider it briefly. But it doesn't matter now anyway, you won't walk away alive from this and I'm where I belong now. Here in the dark, where people will _truly_ understand me."

He pressed his magic through the scalpel in his hand, heating it quickly until it glowed red under his eager eye. Harry walked to the nearest twin and plopped himself down onto the red heads stomach, straddling the prone form and winding him in the process. The knife was lowered slowly, and he savoured the look of abject fear that crossed that blindfolded face as the heat of the implement was felt over that bare freckled skin. With gentle press skin blistered and burn, tearing a sharp scream from between the lips of his first victim.

The other became frantic, tugging on his bonds and pleading as Harry gleefully ripped the scalpel away, tearing blistered flesh with it. The body under him jerked and twitched with pain as he bore down on it with knife and magic and his own weight, he leant over the prone form and traced a single down the centre of his chest. Heedless of the bloodied skin and pus he touched.

"Did you know that it Viking muggles used to have a special way of dealing with captured enemies?" The by under him froze, "It was called the blood eagle and was a rather spectacular way to die. You see first of all they cut open the chest, cracking right down the middle of the sternum as they went." He traced a finger down the area in question before continuing, enjoying the shudder of fear that Weasley emitted. "Then they'd break the ribs at the side before grabbing a hold of the open edge of your bleeding, broken sternum and _pull._ They'd open you up, much in the same way one would open a book the centre, and leave you lying on a rock in the sun. And there you'd be, cracked open with your beating heart and pulsing lungs on display. If you were lucky, you'd die of shock or blood loss. Relatively fast and painless, but if you were unlucky then several things could happen."

Harry paused, Fred, or was it George? Was now shuddering continuously, whole body shaking and trembling in fear at what he was describing.

"No! No no no no no, oh Merlin no! Don't, please! Please please please please-"

"No! Fred! You let him go! You monster, you fucking _monster!_ How could you even think of such a thing, Dumbledore was right to do what he did! Actually no! He should have killed you, he should have taken you outside and put you down like the animal you are! You sick fuck! If I ever-"

"Silence!" Harry snarled, "I haven't finished educating you yet!"

He backhanded the other one, the force behind his strike enough to bounce his head off the ground and daze him enough to stop the flow of threats. Harry turned back to Fred and cooed at him, Fred was almost comatose now from fear.

"Now where was I? Oh yes, now if you didn't die from shock or blood loss then there was always infection. Or even better you would have to lie there, helpless are your heart and lungs slowly dried out in the open air. Slowly becoming stiffer and smaller, your heart struggling to beat properly, your lung never quite filling with enough air, it could take _days_ for you succumb. Or perhaps an animal would come along, drawn to the scent of blood and meat to your location, and you could watch as it ate your own internal organs and killed you. Ants and beetles would come too, ready to take advantage of an easy meal. What would it feel like? To have so many small creature crawling over such an intimate part of you?"

Harry sat up and giggled.

"Well, I guess I can just ask you and find out!"

He gripped his knife tight and began to cut, pressing down hard against skin and bone, heedless of the scents of blood and piss as the body under him lost control. The Weasley's above him wriggled and screamed silently, George yelled and cried, and Fred wailed. A long continuous stream of sound that echoed over the manor grounds, that rang in his ears and soothed him like a mothers lullaby. Fingers scrabbled in the dirt on either side of him while his own scratched at the flesh in front of him, he pulled the raw edges of the wound back to show the smooth bone underneath. Harry pressed a finger against it, tracing it lovingly before pushing down with his magic as well as his finger. There was a moment of impasse followed by a crunch, a bone gave way like ice breaking off a glacier. Small traces of marrow leaked from the wounds and Fred's screams changed pitch, getting higher and rougher as delicate vocal chords began to fail under the strain of the continuous scream.

Harry paused and watched, waiting for the screams to die off before continuing anew. Crystalline tears fled from under closed eye lids, snot and drool flowed from nose and mouth as Harry revelled in the sight.

"Oh Freddy," He sighed, patting the strained face. "This was merely the first step…"

Voldemort arched an non-existent eyebrow at his followers, who were all gathered around the set of French doors that lead to the outside of his manor. Several were gagging, one had thrown up and the other looked equally disturbed and awed by whatever it was that had captured their attention.

Curiosity now piqued, he walked over to see for himself, Death Eaters scrambling to move out of his way. When he reached the door, the other eyebrow joined it fellow up at the top of his forehead. Well… That wasn't something that he saw every day, even around here, and it was rather imaginative to say the least. He didn't think he would ever be able to accuse the boy of being boring ever again, and he could certainly understand just why some of his followers had lost their lunches at the sight. Even he, a diagnosed sociopath, couldn't help but wince slightly in sympathy for those he saw outside not that the sight turned his stomach. He had seen similar after all, one did not live in the same house as Bellatrix Lestrange and not develop a tough stomach. But even he was hard pressed to remember a sight worse than the one he was currently gazing upon outside.

With a shrug, Voldemort pushed open the doors and smirked at the sound of sobbing that reached his ears. He crossed the grounds with sure steps and made his way towards Harry, shaking his head slightly as he did so.

"Tell me Harry, is there a reason why you have most of the Weasley family on spikes and…" He glanced around where the boy was sitting and snorted, "The final two laid out and blood eagled?"

Green eyes met his in a nonchalant shrug, "I got bored so I decided to have some fun and host a tea party."

"You got bored and decided to host a tea party amidst a group of people on spikes."

"Yup, and I figured you probably curse me with something nasty if I kept bothering you so after I got permission I went to the dungeons. These were the first things that caught my fancy so I grabbed them for a little fun in the sun and some experimentation."

"Oh?" He asked curiously, "Just what are you experimenting for?"

"Just seeing which different way of impaling take the longest to kill, verses pain caused, damage caused, blood lost over time, that sort of thing." Harry shrugged, "Plus I've always wanted to recreate something like this ever since we learnt about Vlad the Impaler in school. Tea?"

Voldemort took the offered cup and sat down gracefully on a nearby chair, taking a sip he gazed up at the agonised family of red heads. "I would have to say you've done a remarkable job, but what about those two?"

"Oh them?" Harry grinned, "Well I've always liked the Weasley twins more than the rest of their family," The grin turned to a scowl, "Even I they felt they had the right to call me a monster."

Voldemort snorted, "My dear Mr Potter you _are_ a monster."

"Yes but telling me that to my face isn't very nice, especially if that's followed by them saying that what the old goat did to me was justified."

Voldemort winced, to say that Harry was touchy about what the old man did to him was an understatement. The Weasley's were lucky that the blood eagle was all he did in retaliation, they truly must have been favoured above the others. "Ah, well they bought this upon themselves then."

"That they did."

He took another sip of tea and looked around, catching sight of the face of his Death Eaters he sighed. He really needed to toughen this new lot up, especially if _this_ disturbed them. Young people these days…

 **I'm done! Sure it's a week later than what I originally meant to be, with a significantly longer chapter than I'd intended it to be. But hey, I think it worked out okay in the end! A little more wordy and intense than originally anticipated, and I did try not to make it so horribly graphic so as not to disturb anyone too much. But people watch horror movies like saw right? Just let me know if I went a little over board and I'll try to reel it in a bit, even if it is posted under horror I don't want to disturb anyone too much. But then again I've played things like God of War and Until Dawn, they show some really graphic stuff… Hm… needs an R rating…**

 **Now I know that there will be errors and spelling mistakes, for that I apologise. I don't have a beta reader, simple as that, and I'm about to post this after only giving it a quick read over. Feel free to point out any mistakes,** _ **nicely**_ **, and I will try to correct them as best as I can. But if you're an utter ass about it I will ignore you.**

 **Anyway I hope you have a nice day/night and I will get to work on the next chapter, I don't know when it will be out as I have a fairly busy week ahead of me. But rest assured, that I am writing it and it is fully planned out.**

 **Feel free to review and tell me what you think!**

 **Love S. xx**


	3. Chapter 3 - Unleashed, Feeling Moody

**Unleashed – Feeling Moody**

 **Summary: Planning for the capture of the Dark sects most annoying opponent on the light side, the man who has taken it upon himself to step up after the death of Albus Dumbledore, is well underway. Many ideas are thrown around, but none seem that they'll work until finally a solution is found for his capture as well as how to break him…**

 **However it is not Voldemort who has the idea on just how to capture their target.**

 **Rating: M**

 **Warnings: Gore, graphic depictions of torture and violence, dark/disturbed/insane Harry, most decidedly an AU.**

 **Authors Notes: Hi all again! Some time has passed since my last update, but never fear for I am back for you all with a new one-shot! The reason for my lack of posting is threefold, I am not a fast writer, never have been and never will be as both my daily schedule and typing speed just don't allow for fast updating. Work hates me** _ **and**_ **free time apparently.**

 **The second reason is that I have an idea for another one-shot! I won't tell you much about it, since it's supposed to be a surprise, but I will say that it will be much lighter and happier than Unleashed. Which I think is fair, after all, I can't write death, drama, angst and gore all the time, it's just not fun if I only write one thing. So yes, this new one-shot will be out some time in the next few weeks depending on how everything goes so keep an eye out aye?**

 **Third reason is that I am currently working on my latest cosplay costume! A con is coming close to where I live soon and I've decided to enter into the cosplay contest, so I've also been sewing in my spare time as well as writing and working. So until I'm done with my latest few projects I will be a little slow, but not to worry I won't stop or lose steam. The greater the challenge the better I say!**

 **Anyway, with all that said onto the story!**

Harry whistled merrily to himself as he wandered up for the dungeons, hands stuffed in his pockets and eyes half closed, as he almost floated down the corridor on a cloud of glee. He'd just been to visit his relatives in their now permanent home in Voldemort's dungeon, since from what Harry had read visiting one's relatives was a good way to keep up family ties and maintain social standing. Personally he didn't really buy into the last part, but then again the book he had been reading was written by a pureblood and Harry was fairly certain that things worked differently for them. So he didn't judge that last part, and he was perfectly happy to follow the advice anyway, weird ideas or no.

Besides, seeing the broken and defeated looks in Tuney, Vermins and Fatley's eyes just made his entire week! Yes he said their names that way on purpose. In all the times shown by his unlocked memories never had Harry seen such wonderfully hopeless looks on his families faces, they looked far worse now after a measly three weeks in the dungeon than they had in all his years of payback. It was rather sad really, he hadn't even done anything majorly bad to them the weaklings. Just some minor cutting, a bit of food depravation and a small cell for all three of them and it's like they've thrown in the towel! Hell that was basic daily life for him before he'd taken control, if a small child could handle that a group of adults and an older teen should have no problems. Perhaps he needed to get a little more creative? Sure his methods were tried and tested, but maybe a little variety was needed. Perhaps an excursion outdoors or a special game might work. Harry could take the time to set up a little arena and give them the false option of escape, then keep them working through different sets of challenges over and over again. Always stating that escape was possible, but never making it so.

It might bring some of that fire back, or at least he hoped it would. It was boring tormenting them when they just gave in and sat there like a set of particularly ugly dolls, he'd always had much more fun when they fought back. When they threw angry words at him like knives and made numerous attempts on his life whenever they thought his guard was down, now _those_ were the good old days.

Never a dull moment with the Dursleys before the old goat went and fucked things up for him, now he felt like a cat which had broken both front legs of the mice it was playing with. Life was simply no fun without a challenge or even a sense of danger.

He sighed as he stomped around a corner, of course life had been rather dull recently. No one new to torture or experiment upon, Voldemort wouldn't talk to him for more than an hour before trying to crucio him. Plus whenever Harry tried to liven the place up with some decorations Voldemort had them taken down, there is nothing wrong with making streamer out of intestines! He'd even washed them out and cast the proper preservation spells! Then he'd removed all the skulls Harry had placed over the candle holders as well, the man obviously had no knack for interior decoration. Those skulls had made for the perfect ambient lighting effect, in fact those captured muggles he'd taken through the hall had taken one look at his improved candle covers and either fainted dead away or wet themselves.

He'd been quite proud of his work, making a group of twenty people simultaneously pass out or wet themselves from fear was no easy feat, before Voldy had ruined it all of course.

So he was banned from decorating outside of his room ever again. He was also banned from experimenting on the Death Eaters too, the potion he'd made that caused people to temporarily have an insatiable hunger for flesh had worked far better than expected! Sure it had caused the death of three new recruits, one werewolf and the mass consumption of flesh had spawned a couple wendigo's, but he'd gotten rid of them in the end and it wasn't like anyone _important_ had died. The new recruits turned out to be two Huffelpuffs and a spy, and the werewolf was a weak beta male with no pack, hardly anything to write home about. Still he was banned, now only allowed to experiment on the non-essential prisoners or anyone he captured himself, and Harry had run out of test subjects fast.

Although, if he wanted he _could_ go out into the muggle world and spray a bit of his zombification potion around and start a teensy bit of panic… Nah, Voldy would just get mad and block his outside time… again.

He reached the end of the corridor and stared at the bolted shut doors to the main hall/meeting room, flicked his magic at the door ahead of him and slammed it open with enough forced to rip one of the half free from its hinges. The echoing crack of the doors hitting the walls rang in his ears, as he finally entered into the manor proper. Voldemort had made most of the basement and dungeons in wizard space, so he could hold more prisoners as well as make it impossible to apparate out, just in case any moron got the idea of trying to free themselves. The results of trying to apparate while inside wizard space were always… messy.

He slowed as he passed through the doorway and blinked, there seemed to be a meeting on right now. How odd, meeting usually happened at the end of the week and it was only Wednesday. Something must have happened, not that he was overly concerned of course. From what Harry could see, Voldemort looked more annoyed than curse-casting-death-glaring-venom-spitting mad, so it wouldn't be anything life threatening. Since it wasn't anything major looking Harry continued on his way, walking through the assembled ranks towards the door at the far side of the room. Of course he only made it three steps before Voldemort spoke up.

"Ah Mr Potter, just the man I wanted to see," He hissed silkily. "Come and join us. I believe that we may have need of your particular brand of ingenuity for what I am about to discuss."

With a sigh Harry did what he was told, walking forwards to stand next to Voldemort at the front of the room. He knew that if he disobeyed, current favoured or not, he'd cursed into a drooling mess before he could say psychopath. Just because Voldy wasn't in a really bad mood didn't mean they were safe, it just lowered the risk of death by crucio slightly.

"What is you wished to discuss Voldy dear?" Harry chirped cheerily. He wasn't going to cower in fear, Voldemort's mercurial moods or no, he had _some_ dignity thank you very much.

Voldemort's eye _twitched_.

"We are discussing the capture of one Mad-eye Moody, the current leader of the Order and large thorn in my side. While the location of their latest hideout is well known, the protections that that paranoid bastard has put on the place has made it nigh impossible to even get close to the place. Let alone inside of it."

Lucius spoke up next, "While we've tossed around several ideas of how to get inside, none will work due to the amount of time it will take to lower the wards. The whole Order would be on us before we were even halfway done."

The blonde was one of the few that could talk in meetings without the usual level of grovelling, of course should he fuck up that right would be revoked faster than the aristocrat could blink. The Lestranges, McNair and the eldest Knott were the precious few others who could also talk freely in meetings.

Harry stared at the blonde in thought, "Do the fried chickens know that we know where they're hiding?"

He dutifully ignored the snicker from Rabastan at the nickname he'd given the Order.

"Fortunately no, they've no idea that we know their location. Our spy is positive of that," Voldemort said.

Harry shrugged, "Then stage an attack on the town their hiding in."

"We considered that brat, but it is almost impossible to sneak up on the man while the he's alone. Forget when the whole lot of the muggle loving scum is with him," Voldemort hissed. "Let us not forget his eye either, sneaking up on him is a worthless endeavour as he can see through everything."

"No he can't."

"What?" Voldemort's red eyes narrowed dangerously, "Explain Potter."

"He can't see through everything, if the wall has enough layers he can't see through it and he definitely cannot see through the ground. The spell doesn't allow it, since it would be very disorientating to constantly be able to see _through_ where you're putting your feet when walking. It was a limitation they put in a couple bad accidents occurred due to people looking through the ground, only to be ambushed due to vertigo."

"And you didn't see fit to inform us of this obvious weakness earlier!"

Harry shrugged, "I had no idea you were after Mad-eye and you never asked."

Voldemort sighed and rubbed his forehead, "How do you even know that Potter?"

"Fake Moody had a manual for how the eye worked, and I stole it for a read when I was bored."

"…Of course you did brat…"

"My Lord," said McNair, "He has yet to fully explain himself over his idea of the attack on the town."

Harry rolled his eyes at the man, who merely glared back at him, he was about to get to that if the man had just waited. The other Death Eaters either ignored his antics, or looked exasperated, despite how interested they'd been in what he was saying. Of course he had no idea what the rest of the room was thinking, the lower ranked Death Eaters were still and silent as only the inner circle and their children were allowed to talk at all during meetings. Voldy said it cut down on chatter and made things run smoother, Harry thought it was because he thought they were all stupid and it saved him from murdering too many minions on a daily basis.

They'd agreed to disagree, or at least Harry had. Voldemort had just thrown a book at him and told him to get out, but he took that as an agreement.

Harry pouted at the glaring red eyes that were trained on him and heaved a sigh, before continuing his idea.

"Well the idea for drawing him out is simple, attack the town at the far end. It will draw the Order out of their hidey hole, since they chose a muggle town to hide in they'll fight to protect the vermin in it due to their 'morals' or whatever. Then once they're all there, stage another attack further away, in a different town or something. That'll make them split up, Moody will most likely stay close to base so as to keep an eye on things and will send some of the better fighters to deal with the other attack elsewhere. Then you make a show of resistance while throwing up an anti apparation and anti portkey ward, before hightailing it out of there. Once gone, he will have to head back to base to floo out to get to other battle and that's when we strike." Harry giggled, "Because while everyone else has been fighting a few people are going to bury themselves in the ground out front of the Order hide out, right under Moody's missing nose in a place he can't see. Then it a simple matter of popping out and stunning him when he's in the middle of rushing back to his safe house and off guard, then a pretty green flash and boom! No more Moody problem!"

There was dead silence then Voldemort spoke, "That might actually work Potter."

Harry grinned, "Of course it will and if need be we can leave bait too. Someone polyjuiced as a muggle child or something that's injured right in the middle of the trap, for as paranoid as he is, Moody still cares and is one of the good guys. Thus he will go to help despite said paranoia, and in fact I have the perfect person in mind for that part!" He said gleefully.

"Oh?" Muttered Voldemort before a devious smirk crossed his features, "Well then I guess I will leave the capture of Moody in your capable hands."

"Really?"

"Yes brat," He hissed, "But do not disappoint me… You will not enjoy the, consequences if you do."

"Yay!" Cried Harry, "I get to capture and kill someone- Wait, do you want him dead right away or bought back alive then killed?"

"Capture him, kill him, I don't care just make sure I have his head back in the manor by the time you're done." Voldemort, stood before heading to the exit, "Now I having some planning to do. I'm sure you can handle the details."

Harry's grin slowly grew wider as he turned to face the room as a whole, the edge of his lips twitched as he watched the assembled Death Eaters gulp at the look on his face. He conjured a beanbag made of pitch black velvet and flopped down into it, before scanning the room much like a cat would stare at a cluster of mice and licked his lips.

"Lucius!" He barked.

The blonde jumped slightly before stuttering out a, "Yes Sir?"

"How soon can the mini Malfoy be here?"

Harry smirked in his hiding place, watching the empty street below with half an eye. The rest of the planning of the attack had gone down fairly well, with only two pain curses thrown at some of the lesser Death Eaters when they'd dared to question him. He felt that his plan was rather solid and was gleefully imagining just what it would be like to be the one to have a hand in the take down of Mad-eye Moody, notorious dark wizard hunted and all around paranoid nut job.

It was also a very good chance to test out one of his newest projects, a poison that should in theory shut down one's access to magic. Harry had no idea if it would work and do what he hoped it would, or if it would simply kill Moody and fail entirely, not that he really cared if the man did die or not. They'd have order members a plenty after this night, apparently the old man had been very busy in those last few months before he snuffed it. The number of people that had come out of the safe house was triple what they'd thought would be there, even if a good number of them were red heads that still meant that whatever asshole that was the newest spy was failing in his job.

There had been some really hair raising screams coming from further in town, Harry had seen more than one mangled corpse as he'd made his way over to check on things. Homes were burning, mothers were being cut down trying to save their children and men were cut down in droves whenever they tried to fight back against those attacking them. Which wasn't as often as one would have thought, one man had tried to offer up his wife and two daughters in exchange for his freedom and was promptly skinned alive for his stupidity. Death Eaters may be heartless muggle hating monsters, but they also had a very strong sense of family being purebloods and what that muggle man did was absolutely abominable in their eyes. Thus his sudden lack of skin, prolonged death and rather interesting castration which involved a truly laudable amount of salt.

Harry was very glad they'd thought to bring larger numbers of Death Eaters too, the mass of people from the order would have over whelmed them if they'd bought the number of people that that moron Yaxley suggested. But who cares about that now? The regular reports he was getting showed that the distraction was working well, the secondary one was also in full swing and it was now time to put up the wards and move onto phase three.

"Sir?"

Harry turned to the masked man next to him, yes time to take down Mr Moody, the newest leader of the light. "Do it."

"Right away sir."

The masked man raised his wand and began chanting, Harry watched his work with great interest as barely there threads of magic flowed from the tip of his wand. They danced and swayed with each precise movement, weaving patterns and lines that would make a knot work artist cry with jealousy and shame. Five long minutes later it was done, the wards snapping into place with an almost audible pop. Three muttered words and every Death Eater was keyed into them, allowing them to leave at their discretion while all those who weren't were forced to stay.

Harry raised his wand with a cackle, "Mosmorde!"

Black smoke shot from the tip of his wand, straight up into the air to form a grinning skull and snake. The fighting Death Eaters, seeing the signal all turned on the spot and left, summoning dropped wands, fallen fellows and downed order members to them as they went.

Now ready for the last part of his rather genius master plan, Harry turned to the last person next to him with a grin while Death Eaters for the ambush moved into place. They slipped into premade holes in the earth that were quickly sealed, while others crouched behind carefully constructed shells of earth with their wands at the ready. The previously full cul-de-sac now empty, and the trees of the park they were in showed no signs of life which was perfect. Happy with how things were going Harry turned to the last Death Eater standing, Draco Malfoy. His hair had been magically lengthened and curled, the pale teen who had then been stuffed into a yellow sundress and topped off with a pair of fake breasts glared venomously at him. Both hands tugging the bottom of the dress down in a futile attempt to hide his, freshly shaved, legs from view. It was all Harry could do not to burst into laughter, many other Death Eaters had failed and it had taken nearly twenty minutes for them to calm down.

He was _so_ going to save this in Voldy's pensive for later viewing, Harry could always use a good laugh every now and then.

"Alrighty then, get in there drakey poo."

"Fuck you Potter, I'm not going along with your stupid crazy ass plan."

"My plan isn't crazy mini Malfoy, it's genius!" Harry snarled, pulling out his wand. "Now you are to going to go stand on that street, and put on a really good show or I will be making your transformation into the fairer sex _permanent_."

Draco yelped and scurried away from him, shrieking very much like a girl when Harry sent a blasting hex after him that showered him with chunks of bitumen and dirt. It helped with the effect Harry wanted, making it look like Draco was just a simple muggle girl that had been attacked and managed to escape. Although it did seem to be missing something… But what? Harry didn't exactly have a lot of time before Moody reached the area they were in, the small tracking charm they'd only just managed to sneak onto him told Harry that the man was almost upon them. So he needed to find a way to make this whole trap look more real and fast, Moody had always had a soft spot for blondes as was evidenced by the few girls he'd dated when he was in school according to those who'd known him.

So Draco was simply the perfect bait for this, but soft spot or no Moody wouldn't fall for their ploy for a mildly dirtied but otherwise unharmed chit.

…Ah yes, that was it.

Draco screamed as the first cutting curse hit him on his shoulder, the impact staggering him even as Harry let the second one fly. It hit his back with a wet slap, blood arced almost gracefully through the air as the blonde wailed. His back was now opened from hip to shoulder, the yellow of the dress was quickly being stained a macabre red and Harry could hear Draco's sob and groans of pain. Two cuts and the blonde was a mess, lying half on his side and twitching feebly, hair tangled over his face from where it had fallen when he'd dropped like a stone after the second hit. It was actually rather pathetic how fast the Malfoy scion had wimped out, two cutting curses and he was down for the count? Clearly Lucius had pampered his brat far _far_ too much.

Still, it made for a realistic picture and when Moody clunked into view not a minute later, red faced and puffing. Harry felt that he'd done a very good job indeed, him and the rest of the assembled weren't spared so much as a sideways glance in their transfigured hidey holes. They weren't much more than chunks of earth and stone that had been lifted and shaped to form half domes to hide behind, in fact Moody didn't spare the little hollow hills any attention at all. Those in the ground were even better hidden, his magical eye didn't look down once.

So it was with great glee that Harry signalled the Death Eaters to launch their attack, the men and women with him leaping up with the words of spells on their lips and glee in their eyes. It looked almost as if the ground had come to life, birthing a sea of black robed figures in terrifying white masks. Moody gave a shout, jumping up and turning away from the crumpled form of Draco to face his attackers. But it was too little too late for the man, stunners flew through the air, painting the whole area red with their glow and while Moody still managed to block a fair few he was still hit by more than enough stunners to have him down for the rest of the night and much of next week. The man hadn't even hit the ground before more spells were being cast, glowing shackles and ropes appeared on his body as he was wrapped up tighter than a nun's panties. The thud of his body hitting the ground was Harry's next queue.

He straightened, hopping nimbly over the top of his own dirt hideout Harry made a beeline for the downed auror. A vial of potion was pulled from his robes and its cork yanked free and tossed away, a sharp kick rolled their comatose victim onto his back and yanked his jaw open and tipped the potion in. Teeth were clicked together to stop the potion spilling and Harry massaged the scarred neck to stimulate swallowing, before he sat back on his heels with a grin.

"Secure the area while I see if the potion works, if it does prepare a portkey for prisoner transport. If it doesn't then the only thing that we'll be taking back is the good ol' Moody's head." Harry paused before he tossed a rolled piece of parchment over his shoulder carelessly, "Oh and someone write what is on that in blood on the orders front door will you? I should hate for us to leave without first making sure we've made a good impression." He cackled.

The Death Eaters scrambled to obey, some taking up watch while others set up hasty wards while the last had picked up the parchment with a gulp and was staring at it like it would bite him. One of the ones that had finished with the wards walked over to the still moaning Draco and began healing him, finally stopping the pitiful noise much to Harry's great relief.

Harry turned his focus back to Moody and glanced eagerly between his watch and the man in front of him, it wouldn't be too long now. The moment the second hand ticked past the five-minute mark he grinned gleefully, watching as the body in front of him convulsed within the constraints of its bonds. A low, almost animalistic moan broke past scarred lips and several Death Eaters shivered at the sound.

They all knew what it meant, Harry had explained the potions purpose to them before they'd left the meeting and they almost pitied Moody for what he was going through. Harry had said that Moody would either have his magic locked away, much like a squib, or the potion would liquefy his insides. Neither were pleasant prospects in their option, and most were glad that Harry had decided against sharing the recipe claiming that the potion was his baby. Even Voldemort himself wouldn't try and get it off him, the last item he'd called his baby that had been taken from him had not had pleasant results that they were still cleaning up.

Once Moody stopped convulsing, Harry leant forwards, reaching out with his magic to brush it past the still form. He let out a whoop, he'd done it! Magic locked away for good! Yes!

"Perfect," He giggled, "The great Mad-eye Moody now nothing more than a harmless squib! Oh how wonderful," Harry purred before he pointed to the nearest Death Eater, "You! Prepare the portkey, I will need to take him with me as I have further tests to run before I can be certain that the effects of the potion are permanent."

"Yes Sir!"

Harry turned back to Moody and reached into his pocket, pulling out a shrunken item and placing it on the ground next to him. A swift finite later and his newest toy was back to full size and ready for use, he almost wanted to rub himself against it like a cat. It had taken Harry quite a while to get all them enchantments right for this particular piece, as metal was never quite the right conduit for magic. Something about the rigidity of steel not allowing for the natural flow of magic, he honestly had stopped pay attention after that point. In the end he'd needed to spend half a fortune on goblin steel for his pretty, but the end result was well worth the exorbitant cost.

"Potter… What the fuck is that?"

Harry turned to see several confused and wide eyed looks being sent his way, he grinned widely before turning to Draco who was now apparently healed enough to talk again. What a pity.

"This my dearest fellow torture enthusiasts, is the wondrous device known as an Iron Maiden." He walked over to it with glee and opened the front panel, showing off the wickedly spiked inside for the awe filled eyes of those present. "This was a torture device that was said to be have been quite commonly used in the middle ages for interrogating prisoners by muggles, although records of that time are rather inaccurate so no one really knows is this is true or not." Harry ignored their disgusted looks at the mention of muggles and carried on talking, "But the principal idea is rather simple, place your victim in the iron maiden and close the door. They would be impaled up the spikes within and forced to stand lest they kill themselves, most died of infections of course, but some bleed out while other's killed themselves due to the pain and isolation they suffered within."

Harry licked his lips slowly and pointed a finger at Moody and flicked, lifting the bound man off of the ground and levitating him over to the iron maiden. With a cruel smirk he slammed the man in place, the maiden already shifting to mould to Moody's height and build via his enchantments. He vanished the bindings and woke the man, waving when a dazed blue eye landed on him before he slammed the door shut and latched it. The scream that echoed out of the face slit was truly _chilling_. Harry walked closer and slid the face plate open, the screams and groans from inside grew louder and he giggled. Using two fingers he rocked it back and forth, the feather light charm making what should have been impossible easy and the echo of the slick slide of metal into flesh rang out through the empty street.

He stepped back and flicked a finger, heating the metal of the maiden until it glowed and the heat made the nearest Death Eater shy back. Another flick later and the metal creaked as it was quickly super cooled. Harry smirked happy that magic worked fine on his new pretty, before he continued his little impromptu lecture.

"Of course unlike those filthy muggles, I have improved upon their design. He won't be able to kill himself, in fact Moody won't so much as move without my say so. Every spike is set to hit a nerve cluster, pressing relentlessly against the most sensitive parts of you. But not tight enough to keep you standing with help, so as the strength slowly leaves his body he will began to slip. Putting more and more weight upon those spike until he is shredding his own nerves open just because he's tired," Harry giggled, "And his body won't be able to deal with the damage like normal. Because his magic is gone now, bye bye! He won't die of infection and I've made sure he won't dying of blood loss, hell he won't even be sleeping! Dearest Moody will spend every moment awake and aware. Every. Single. Agonising. Second. Ain't magic great!"

Several Death Eaters looked intrigued, the newer ones looked rather green.

"He will stay in there, wasting away and tearing himself apart in his own filth until I finally decide to grant him the mercy of death. And I have very little mercy…" He clapped his hands together in delight, "It's wonderful what people can come up with when they don't have any magic with which to injure one another isn't it!"

Harry snatched the portkey and slapped it onto the iron maiden, giving the contraption a harsh kick for good measure that elicited another wonderful groan of pain. It popped away and Harry gave it a sad wave, of course he would see his pretty again soon. Perhaps Voldy would let him hang the maiden from the ceiling in the meeting room? It would look absolutely perfect! Not to mention the image boost it would give whenever any pesky little spies came in and saw it hanging there, he'd even remove the face plate so everyone could see inside. Of course he would need to remove Moody's tongue first, no need for the man to sit there issuing threats and one didn't really need their tongue to cry out in pain after all.

Plus it would save him a trip down to the dungeons whenever he needed to check on the effectiveness of his potion.

Oh he really hoped Voldy would say yes!

"I can't believe I'm saying this about something _muggle_ made, but that's actually rather ingenious. Where did you learn about this stuff this Potter?" Sneered Draco.

"Muggle primary school, the library was just filled with so many interesting things for me to read!"

"They teach their children about these things?" Cried one of the men, "That's horrible!"

Draco snorted, "Says the man teaching his eleven year old son black magic…" He muttered.

The man who'd spoken pouted and his fellows laughed at him, shoving at him when he snarled at them to shut up. Honestly sometimes Death Eaters were like children, can't leave them together anywhere for more than five minutes before they start trying to hurt one another.

Harry smiled, "Well mission accomplished, let's get out of here and report back in to Voldy so he knows we've had a success." He said before he apparated away with a crack, leaving a group of cursing followers behind him.

Voldemort stared at the large construct hanging from the ceiling in the centre of the room, the now tongueless Moody glared back at him hatefully from his spot above the heads of his kneeling followers. His magical eye was gone, procured by Harry for Merlin knows what and Voldemort could see the sheen of sweat and lines of pain on the proud old aurors face. Even from his spot on his throne half a room away.

With a smirk he flicked his wand, there was a clang as his spell hit the iron maiden and Moody cried out hoarsely in pain. A strange and warped sound the flowed from the empty mouth and echoed around his cold metal prison, hitting that damn thing was strangely therapeutic.

Giggling, Voldemort silently sent another spell at the thing, oblivious to the very nervous looks that graced his followers faces as they watched him from their position on the floor.

Yes, Harry came up with some of the most delightful things. To think that he'd merely wanted to kill the man he was now tormenting! Sure having Moody's head on a spike would have been nice, but this was just so much better. All these wonderful things he had missed out on utilising because of his hatred of all things muggle, he really should ask Harry for some tips…

Elsewhere in Brittan, the surviving members of the Order of the Phoenix collectively shuddered in fear for no apparent reason. Each feeling as if someone had just walked over their grave after setting on fire.

 **I became rather interested in the Iron maiden after my first play through of Amnesia the Dark Descent, and while what my research using the wonder of google was rather disappointing I still found the whole thing to be an interesting concept. So while some of what I wrote was true, other parts were simply speculation on my behalf as well as a little bit of logic. The fact that something, which according the researches, doesn't actually exist as a proper torture device is so often shown in horror games and in fantasy novels is rather interesting to me.**

 **What gave it notoriety in the first place? Why an iron maiden and not a Catherine wheel, or a Judas pyramid? Or any of the other legitimate devices of torture? So I really only wrote this because I wanted to write a story with an iron maiden in it, the next chapter should be much gorier though. Since I didn't want to overload you with hard core gore all the time, even I can only stomach so much as the writer. Although I am having waaayyy too much fun writing Voldy in these, his reactions to what Harry does make me smile though so what can I do?**

 **Meh, I think that's enough waxing philosophical and babbling aimlessly.**

 **Again, my apologies for taking so long. But life will be life and shit will happen, not to mention even my writing, as much fun as it is, will be put aside in favour of work on my Joker costume. Nerding out at a con while looking like the King of Knaves wins in my books, hands down bitches.**

 **I have no beta, so any mistakes you find please ignore them! I do my best, but alas I am but a mere mortal and thus prone to making mistakes.**

 **Hope you enjoyed the chapter!**

 **S. xxoo**


	4. Chapter 4 - Unleashed, To Earn a Name

**Unleashed – To Earn a Name**

 **Summary: Harry hasn't been with the Dark sect for long, and many refuse to trust him due to his previous status. Bored, shunned, feeling somewhat powerless and beginning to lose himself to his newly unlocked memories, Harry will do anything to prove himself and to change the status quo. So after a particularly bad night, and an impromptu trip to visit Voldemort himself, will he finally be given the chance he desires?**

 **Rating: High M**

 **Warnings: Child abuse, graphic depictions of torture, swearing, high impact gore.**

 **Authors Notes: Hey everyone! So in this one we go back in time a bit to when Harry first went over to the dark side, this takes place about a week after he kills Snape and Dumbledore. I am actually really excited about writing this chapter, and just want to warm everyone that this one will once again be rather violent. Perhaps more so than the previous chapter, so this may be a little squicky for some.**

 **I've had a few question about my tagging Snape as a character in this fic. Yes I killed him in the first chapter, but don't worry dead or no there will still be more that our loveable, bitter Slytherin can do for us! I won't go into details, as it's a surprise, but I think people will like it.**

Harry slumped into his chair with a sigh, glumly prodding at his half-drunk cup of tea as soft wisps of steam rose from its contents. A plate of biscuits sat to his left, untouched bar a single half-heartedly nibbled one on top of the pile. This was nowhere near as fun as he'd thought it would be, sure he was given free reign of his actions and time spent with the dark sect. But none of the upper or lowers ranks trusted him, everywhere he went dark and distrustful looks would follow him. Sneers and glares, not to mention insults were thrown his way with annoying frequency and the disbelieving scoffs that he got whenever he was found reading any of the numerous dark books in the library were getting on his nerves.

To be perfectly frank, he was going stir crazy and he'd not even been here more than a week.

Sure it had been fun at first, Voldy was nowhere near as crazy as he made himself out to be and had a rather dry sense of humour that Harry could really appreciate. The library was simply filled to the brim with fascinating books, all on the darkest forms of magic and manuals on potions making on every brew that he had heard about and a lot that he hadn't. It would have been great, if he wasn't being watched like a hawk by every death eater and his dog.

He was bored, tired and beginning to lose focus in the worst way. Harry was almost always swamped by his newly awakened memories, they drifted at the edges of his waking and sleeping mind, just waiting to rise up and drag him under. He was getting twitchy, the old feeling of powerlessness was coming back and numerous time he'd caught himself reaching for his wand or a knife. His old urge and habits for dealing with loss of self-control, power and freedom rising faster to the surface with every day. Harry knew perfectly well that he wasn't normal, that his desire to control and cause pain in others wasn't a particularly sane or well-balanced urge. He'd grown up with his entire life controlled to an almost insane degree, everything from the way he spent his days, when he ate and slept down to punishments was in the hands of others. In fact, punishments especially were far beyond his control as abiding by the tightly constraining rules set down by his carers hadn't stopped them from simply making up reasons to punish or deny him things. The first time in his miserable childhood he'd felt freedom was the day he'd killed the rabbit and her young. To go from less control than a slave to having power over whether the creature in front of him lived or died, was a truly heady feeling and from that point on Harry had been addicted.

It was annoying that he had such a vice, but he needed relief and it had to be soon. Yet he wasn't even trusted to go _near_ where the prisoners were being kept before being violently turned back, Harry couldn't even find an animal to torture as the wards kept them off property and the only one on premise was Nagini. If anything happened to her, Voldemort would more than likely mount his head on a spike.

This whole situation sucked, big time.

His tea drinking companion chuckled, and Harry glanced up from his moping contemplation of his tea cup to glare at the man across from him.

Red eyes glinted with barely concealed amusement at his death glare, and non-existent lips twitched up into a smirk at the sight of his obvious annoyance. The spider like fingers gripped the delicate china cup tighter with a twitch, and thin nostril slits flared slightly around a snort. Voldemort, placed his drink down with a click as Harry pouted harder, before sinking back into his chair himself with serpentine grace.

They sat in silence, Voldemort with amusement and Harry with slowly growing annoyance before finally, he couldn't stand it anymore.

"This is all your fault you know?"

A single hairless eyebrow rose.

"If you could just control your minions a bit better, then I wouldn't be having this problem in the first place," Harry stated with an accusing point.

"Oh? Have my Death Eaters been unruly?"

"Unruly? They've been pains in the ass! Sure none of them have attacked me, but it's only a matter of time cause if the looks that I've been getting have been any clue they all hate me!" Harry threw his hands up into the air, "Whatever happened to, 'Mr Potter is a valuable ally, and is one of us. Treat him as you would treat others of the sect' huh? The only thing they've done so far is do their level best to throw as many insults as humanly possible and set me on fire with their eyes!"

"Hmm, that does sound annoying."

"Annoying is an understatement Voldy, it's like they don't trust me? How can they not trust me-"

"Well you did used to be to figurehead of the light side."

"-I who bought in the old goats head for all to see-"

"You did."

"-Who let you traipse through my memories, like a magpie looking for something shiny. They should trust _you_ at the very least, their great and evil master-"

"That I am."

"-Poster boy for all things dark and spooky, not to mention a master of the mind arts to boot. Yet they just don't seem to care!"

"Sure they don't."

"It's all, that brat this, Potter boy that, slimy little bastard this and light spy that! I'm sick of it! I just want-"

"I'm sure you are."

"-Them to at least leave me alone to experiment or to at least be able to go outside, and, wait are you even listening to me!?" Harry screeched in outrage, glaring daggers at a nonchalant Voldemort who was currently reading a newspaper of all things while completely ignoring him.

"Go on, I'm listening."

"Merlin dammit Voldy, I'm trying to say that I'm going stir crazy here! I haven't killed anything in nearly a week, and before that close to five years! I am itching to do something and your bloody minions just keep making it worse, but I can't curse or kill them for their comments cause then you'll get mad. It's not fair, I wanna have some fun and I- Stop laughing you snake bastard!"

With remarkable self-control, that Harry was certainly was not jealous of, Voldemort cut off his low chuckles and took a sip of his still steaming tea. Looking for all the world like he hadn't just been laughing at Harry's misfortune, although he would swear that those red eyes held a slight glint of mirth. Harry pouted harder as Voldemort smirked at him over the rim of his delicate china tea cup before speaking.

"My dear crazy brat, simply put, I cannot order them to behave and trust you as you want. If I tried to they would simply continue to see you as either an annoyance or a potential threat until you earn their trust, or worse an annoyance that is riding on my coattails. The only thing that can be done, is for you to change how they think of you. How you accomplish such a thing is up to you, but until then you will just have to learn to live with the negative attention." Voldemort said smoothly.

Harry threw his hands up in the air in exasperation, "And just how should I even begin going about changing their opinions of me? I can't even talk to the suspicious bastards without threats of torture or death!"

Voldemort stood and swept over to the door, a wry smirk upon his lips.

"Oh you're a creative little thing, you'll think of _something_. Like my dearly departed Barty once said, play to your strengths…" He tossed over his shoulder as he left.

Harry scowled as the man disappeared down the hallway, and slumped in his seat once the dark lord was out of sight. With a sigh he dropped his head back onto the chair. Well, talking to snaky wasn't much help and for all his bitching he knew deep down that there wasn't all that much the man could to help in his predicament. For all that the dark lord's followers feared and revered the man, they also were a bunch of twitchy, paranoid and jumpy bastards that would put moody at his absolute worst to shame.

Of course that may be a side effect of living with a man who use the crucio curse on a regular basis, mix that with a healthy dash of dark magic addiction and you get all kinds of crazy. And really, the fact that Voldy himself had let him stay and given him a bright green ending, was more than Harry had expected.

God he needed something to do, so way to relieve stress.

Living here was like living with a hundred Snapes, only you know, with less insults aimed at his father and comparisons to said man. Harry snorted, actually he kind of missed the grumpy bastard and wasn't that just ironic. Sure he'd been an utter prat and all around greasy git, but the old- er- new Harry rather found the man's comments an attitude rather hilarious. But then again they say hindsight _is_ twenty twenty.

Not much he could do now though, as he'd rather jumped the gun and killed the man.

They'd even buried the git on the school grounds, alongside the headmaster. Why anyone thought that was appropriate was beyond him, maybe they wanted to old goat to continue annoying Snape even in death? Merlin knows, Harry would be doing his best to crawl out of the grave if he had been buried next to the manipulative prick. Not even Severus Snape deserved to be stuck with Albus-too-many-middle-names-Dumbeldore, in fact-

Harry shot up right on his couch when an idea struck him.

No.

Could he do it?

Would it be worth it? Harry pursed his lips, definitely. Plus, even if it didn't work it would still give him a way to pass time. Green eyes darkened as a wicked grin twisted its way across his lips. Levering himself up out of his chair with his grin firmly in place, Harry made a beeline for the door.

He had a dark lord to find.

Harrys head was buried in a rather large book as he wandered the halls of Voldemort's mansion, and he was completely and utterly absorbed his reading material. Some of the books that the dark lord owned were just so fascinating!

So the screeching cackle of Bellatrix Lestrange was a rather jarring shock back to reality, the piercing scream that came after had him tilting his head to the side. Turning the door that the noise had come from, Harry pondered going in for a moment to see what was happening. He almost didn't, not wanting to put himself into the line of scrutiny of the death eaters again. But another scream, higher pitched and jagged with pain made him want to look. With snap, he closed his book and edged closer to the door. Harry opened it a crack and leant in for a good look just as Bellatrix cackled again, he almost smirked at the sight of a group of death eaters gathered around a writhing body on the floor. Their wands drawn and held loosely in their hands.

Seeing as none of them had noticed him, Harry slipped into the room, placing his books down on a nearby table he settled in to look.

And found himself rather unimpressed by what he was looking at.

It seems that they'd grabbed some random light wizard off the street, or an Auror, Harry mentally amended as he caught sight of the torn red robes off to the side of the room. There were several no name recruits, and Bellatrix. All of them were gathered around the man in a lose circle, who'd been stripped down to his boxers with arms bound behind him and it appeared they were taking turns casting the cruciatus cruse on the unlucky sod. One after another, some for a short while, and others like Bellatrix for minutes at a time. They did seem like they were being careful not to send their captive insane, but that was about it.

Harry was almost bored.

Oh sure the screams were nice, and the whimpering sobs that rang through the room whenever they stopped to taunt him were rather satisfying to listen to.

But where was the imagination! The intimidation and the fear!

Even the most cowardly of men would eventually become somewhat accustomed to having the same torture curse cast on them over and over again, like Wormtail. Merlin help the dark sect if this was the best they had offer in the way of torture; they'd never get any information ever. Every captive would go insane first. _He'd_ been doing more inventive things when he was _eight._ Which in comparison to a group of the most feared dark witches and wizards of the modern ages efforts, was horribly sad.

It was his duty to do something about this.

"Oh my God this is boring," He drawled during a break in the screaming.

"Ickle Potter," Bellatrix snarled, whirling around to face him. "What are you doing here brat!"

Harry raised an unimpressed eyebrow, "Apparently I'm watching you fail to decently torture some poor fucker. _Miserably_."

Her face twisted into an ugly sneer, and the lower ranked flunkies around her shifted uneasily in their spots. They clearly unsure of what to do, while being clearly unwilling to step in between Bellatrix and himself during an argument. They'd fought several times already, and with nasty casualties.

"Oh and I suppose my Lord's new pet feels he can do better hm?" She sneered at him, "I bet you don't have the guts to even cast a proper crucio."

"Oh please I know I can do better than your pathetic attempts, Bella _bitch_. Casting the same thing over and over again? Getting boring in our old age are we?" Harry snorted, "I could do way better then you. With the use of your precious favourite spell." He spat.

The man on the floor was staring at him now, with huge disbelieving eyes. Harry merely shot him a look of contempt, before turning his attention back to the witch in front of him.

"Prove it," Bellatrix cackled, "Show us what you've got ickle Potty. If you dare…"

Harry grinned then, dark and twisted with sick glee. Oh this was going to be fun. "It would be my pleasure."

He stalked forwards, signalling for the death eaters to move back. They did so, clearing a space for him to work in. Some even conjured seats and sat down, anticipation and wariness clearly written across their faces. Harry almost snorted, they were acting like children about to be shown something during a class. Voldemort really must have lowered standards if he let these idiots join.

With a soft snort, Harry turned his attention back to the prone form of the auror on the ground in front of him. The man was still shaking with aftershocks from the numerous rounds of crucio curse, he could see several small bruises on the exposed skin but aside from that the man remained largely undamaged. With slow measured steps, Harry walked around the auror, his face impassive as he assessed his soon to be victim. The man was fairly good looking, with light brown hair, chiselled features and honey brown eyes. Both of which were wide with terror and confusion. But the most notable thing was his physique. Many wizards were thin although many turned to fat as they aged, but this man was very much in shape. Strong, well defined muscles graced every exposed part of his body. Soft and well cared for skin, Harry was amused by the way it shone under the light even with the layer dirt and sweat that caked it, and evenly trimmed, well cared for nails on his hands and feet showed more to Harry than a round of questioning ever could.

Done with his inspection, Harry crouched down next to the man's head. His grin stretching wider until it forced his eyes partially closed, and became more of a barring of teeth than any semblance of a smile.

"You take good care of yourself don't you?" Harry stated conversationally.

The man's eyes widened.

He raked his eyes down the prone form, "Just look at you. Strong muscles, cared for skin, hair and nails. Why one could say you were vain about your appearance!" Harry chuckled. "Yes, you spend a lot of time taking care of yourself, keeping yourself in top shape. It's a point of pride, isn't it?"

Honey coloured orbs narrowed in confusion, while several of the death eaters shifted in their seats. Clearly not sure where Harry was going with this.

He back handed the man with a snarl, "I asked a question!"

"Y-yes, it is."

"Good boy," Harry purred. "Tell me good boy, what would happen if all of a sudden I took away that point of pride?"

"I, w-what do you mean?"

"I mean exactly that." Harry licked his lips and leant closer, "How would it feel if I made you ugly? Scared up your face, and ruined your lovely soft skin?"

Those warm eyes showed white as understanding dawned.

"N-no, no, no, no, no, no, no…"

"Oh you wouldn't like that?"

Harry pointed his wand at a nearby book, summoning it and transfiguring it into a wickedly sharp knife. He pressed it against the soft skin of the aurors cheek, digging it in until a small bead of blood welled.

The man froze, eyes trained on the sharp blade.

"Well…" Harry paused, "Perhaps I won't ruin your pretty face. I do so like looking at it," He mused aloud.

Lowering the knife and letting his toy breathe a sigh of relief, he pursed his lips thoughtfully.

"But the rest of you? I don't much care for."

Harry slammed the knife down into a perfectly toned bicep, revelling in the high pitch scream that followed. He dug the blade in further, twisting slightly before yanking it out. The nameless man sobbed and writhed in agony, tears fell freely from his eyes and Harry giggled.

"Oh you make such pretty noises!" He dragged the bloody blade down the exposed chest in front of him, "And your blood is nice and bright too, lovely."

He changed his grip on the knife, holding it point down so that the tip dug in the soft skin of the auror belly.

"Now hold still, I don't want to gut you… yet."

Harry hummed happily as he carved the smooth skin, ruined it amidst a chorus of screams, begging and pleading. Blood flowed freely, running in tiny crimson rivers down the natural channels that the toned abdominal muscles provided. The twitched and writhed on the spot, tugging desperately at his arms in a frantic attempt to get away. Harry frowned, and then glared at a particularly hard jerk bumped his hand, and forced the knife deeper than he wanted it.

"I told you to stay still!" With a snarl of anger, he turned a slammed the knife into the aurors shoulder with enough force to drive the point into the floor.

The wailing scream that followed was beautiful.

With a huff Harry sat back, pushing hair out of his eyes with a blood soaked hand. He eyed the whimpering sobbing man for a moment, before yanking out his wand and summoning a few odds and ends over from random places in the room. Grinning, he set to work.

"Did you know," He said conversationally, "That healing magic can only do so much?"

Harry could hear muttering coming from his death eater audience, not to mention he could feel Bellatrix's eyes burrowing into him from where she sat.

Harry ignored them and turned to his pet, "It's true. In fact I discovered something very interesting," He flicked his wand a few more times, before putting it away with a grin. "If you are injured and then someone heals you incorrectly, then that injury can never be properly fixed!"

He stepped to the side and giggled at the horrified eyes of his victim. Pulling on gloves, he stepped up to the glowing brazier and pulled out a red-hot stone with a pair of tongs. The heat from the stone caused the air to sizzle, and Harry chuckled.

"W-what are you going to do with that?" Came the hoarse question.

Harry kicked the man and watched him moan, before squatting down with a sadistic grin.

"That, is something you're just going to have to find out."

Harry grabbed a weakly struggling leg and pushed it to the man's chest, exposed the hollow behind his knee and dropped the super-heated stone before folding the leg around it. The cry of agony the followed was deafening. Thrashing against the knife pinning him to the ground, the auror was unintelligible in his agony. He screamed and cried, babbling nonsense and issuing broken animal like noises over the sizzle of cooking flesh. _His_ cooking flesh.

A shiver of pleasure ran down Harrys spine, he leant forwards, putting more of his weight onto the leg holding the stone and pressing it harder into burning, boiling skin. Licking his lips, Harry grabbed a hold of his pet's face and turned it to face him. Pain glazed and tear filled eyes turned to him, blood ran down the once handsome pans chin. It was clear that he'd bitten through his lips at some point in his thrashing, and the whole large frame was trembling with pain and terror.

"Back to my interesting fact," Harry purred, "I want you to think about this carefully. At the moment, you are crippled. The skin of the back of your knee is fused around the stone, along the many important tendons and ligaments needed to allow you to walk. If you were taken to a healer now, you would be fine. A qualified medi-witch would have no troubles reversing the damage, of giving you back your leg."

He paused to watch as horrified comprehension fitted across his pet's features, Harry savoured the moment as terror filled honey eyes stared at the hand now holding his wand. The weakened man thrashed desperately, as the wand traced the outside of the folded knee almost lovingly.

"Tell me, what would happen if I were to heal this now incorrectly?"

The auror whimpered and shook his head, eyes still fixed on the glowing wand point.

"Well?" Harry asked impatiently.

When he still didn't receive an answer, he growled angrily and slammed the man's head into the floor.

"I asked you a question, and you will answer it!"

"Please, d-don't… I don't, y-you c-c-can't!"

Harry glared, "I can and I will. Any time I want, but I want to you tell me yourself. So I know for sure you realise exactly what this means for you!"

Honey brown eyes broke, dulling as his pet forced himself to say it out loud. "I," He swallowed heavily, "I'll never walk again. I'll be c-crippled, f-for the rest of my life…"

"Exactlly."

Harry breathed a healing spell out over the man's face, watching as despair clouded the chiselled features, making them sallow in their grief.

"Just think of it, house bound and broken. Needing help with the simplest of things, you won't get to keep your job. No room for pitiful cripples in the auror department. All that hard work, making yourself fit and beautiful, _wasted_. You'll sit in your house, and rot away. Forgotten, ugly and alone…"

He sat up, watching the sobbing man before standing with a sneer. So easy to break, it was pathetic. A few harsh words and one crippled leg was all it took, Harry spat on the ground. Silencing the meat bag, he yanked the knife out of the ground and straddled the sluggishly bleeding chest.

"Merlin that was boring," He drawled, "I'd hardly got started and already you're pathetic."

With a sharp flick, he cut along a prominent cheek bone. Gaining mute cries for his action, Harry cut the other one before running the knife over the sweat covered jaw line idly. Broken eyes pleaded mutely at him, Harry scoffed at the pleading look. Just for the begging, he stabbed the other shoulder to pin the man again and stood.

"Elf!" Harry barked imperiously.

The was a pop and a tiny trembling elf stood in front of him, paling and wringing its hands at the sight of bloodied body next to it.

"Y-yes little master?"

"Bring me half a pound of rock salt and half a pound of finely ground wood chips, powdered if you can manage it."

"Right away little master sir."

It disappeared with a crack, re-appearing moments later with the two requested items before popping away as fast as possible.

Harry summoned a large bucket and umped the contents of both bags inside, stirred them thoroughly before making his way back over to the bleeding man. He cocked his head to the side and took a moment to admire his handy work. While the man himself may have broken fast, Harry was rather proud of what he'd done so far. The auror was covered in blood and sweat, open gaping cuts trailed aimlessly across the defined torso. Two large holes glistened at each shoulder, simply welling with blood and gore from where Harry had twisted the knife. The crippled leg was twisted at an odd angle, to accommodate for the fact that it could no longer be straightened.

Blood was splattered everywhere, probably due to the numerous frantic attempts to flee and at some point the man had wet himself.

On the whole it made for a beautiful picture, and Harry giggled as he stepped closer. "Now one last thing for you to remember me by, before I hand you back over to your previous friends. Muggles are particularly famous for rubbing salt in their captive's wounds, but just salt is rather boring don't ya think?"

The auror was watching him with wide pleading eyes, a tiny spark of defiance coming back to the previously blank look. Not as broken as he'd thought, Harry was going to enjoy crushing that spark.

Harry sighed dramatically, "Sure it burns and stings, but it also washes off easy enough. No, I want to make a more lasting impression… And if wood is ground fine enough, it acts just like glass only with a much higher risk of infection!" He stated cheerily, "Isn't that wonderful!"

With a wide grin, he dumped the bucket over the bound man and watched as he arched into a perfect bow. Even with the knife in his shoulder he thrashed, wriggling like a worm on a hook which only served to spread the mix further. Harry pressed his boot onto the heaving chest, grinding his heel over a particularly nasty cut with a giggle.

"Oh I think we need to hear this."

He lifted the silencing spell and right away screams rang out over the empty room, echoing off the walls and getting shriller and hoarser with every passing second.

Stepping off the downed man, Harry gave him one last kick for good measure, before turning to his stunned and awed audience. They started when he snorted, and wandered over to his forgotten book.

"Fucking idiots, only using one bloody spell. No imagination I _swear_."

Harry left the room, only to stop and stare at the book in his hands as it began to lick the blood from his fingers.

"When the fuck did this thing have a tongue!"

 **Okay first of all, I am so sorry that it has taken this long to get another chapter out. Sadly, life is an actual thing, and this year I had two jobs. Which basically took up all my time, any days off I had were taken up with sleeping and recuperating. So yeah, no real time or energy for writing.**

 **But Christmas means holidays! So, I finally got this idea up and running! Yay! It's not a gore-y as I thought it would be, but it is kind of plot relevant so meh. I will keep working on this, so it isn't abandoned, just it hopefully won't take another full year for the next chapter.**

 **I will once again remind you that I have no beta, which means no proof reading, grammar checks or spelling checks that aren't done by moi. Please don't be harsh if you do find any issues, and thank you to all the people that followed and favourited this story during the time I was away!**

 **To be perfectly honest I was worried about how people would react to this style/genre. I've read quite a few 'horror' fanfics, but haven't found any as straight up torture and gore based as this. So yeah, glad people like this?**

 **I'm rambling, I think this is enough typing for tonight. I'm going to bed.**


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